Black Swan
by Lyta Halifax
Summary: At age thirteen, Max's powers Emerged. Identified as a Special, one of a tiny handful of people with amazing abilities, she is forcibly recruited and studied by the government. Though her life grows ever darker, she clings to one hope: to someday be reunited with her best friend Chloe. [Major AU. FederalAgent!Max. Pricefield. Rated M for sex, violence and naughty words.]
1. Emergence

_**A/N:** A note for new readers:_

 _This series has a lot of slow, detailed world building that makes up much of the first 12 chapters, especially between chapter 6 and 12. During the initial months of publication, I discovered that people either absolutely loved that or really didn't care for it at all. Some folks stopped reading, but some of them came back after Chapter 13 and were very pleased. My advice: If you start reading, and feel like maybe the world building is getting to be too much for you after a while, check out chapter 13, then decide if it's worth continuing. :)_

 _I'm also aware that in the first four of five chapters, I tend to overuse caps for emphasis; that's a habit I finally managed to drop, and I just haven't had a chance to go back and fix it, yet._

 _And with that out of the way, I give you: Black Swan._

* * *

"It-it was a really nice service, Chloe. Your Dad - I mean - I think he would have..."

Max regretted the words as soon as they left her mouth; they sounded so weak, so stupid. As if the perfect way to wipe away Chloe's grief was somehow out there, and she was a shitty friend for not immediately divining what it was. The other girl seemed too lost in her mourning, tears flowing freely down her cheeks and mouth, to have noticed; for this small kindness, Max found herself grateful.

She instead focused on tightening her embrace, comforting arms wrapped around her best friend since - well, as far back as her memory could take her. It was barely two weeks ago, when they had been laughing and fooling around, Chloe and her father making pancakes and talking about their someday-future trip to Paris, before the call came in.

The one from Joyce.

The one that ended up killing William.

"Oh God. It hurts Max. It hurts so fucking much."

Chloe had tried to hold it together during the funeral - tried too hard, really - and it was finally gushing all those previous days where she should have been crying, freaking out, and angry, but wasn't - like she was just in shock - was now rising up to the surface. She dammed it up, and now that dam was cracking at last.

This was no dream; there would be no miracles. Wonder Woman wasn't going to swoop down and save everyone at the last second. There'd be no clever sitcom twist, where everyone realizes William's death was just a big misunderstanding. There was only what was in the here and now: his passing would mar the lives of all who had known and loved him.

For Chloe? There was a Daddy-shaped hole in her heart that would never close again.

Max stared numbly out at the wall, feeling so terribly small and helpless against the world, filled as it was with cruel indifference. She'd never dealt with death before aside from a housepet. Both of her parents, and all of her grandparents were still alive, not one of them yet ripped away from her. At the end of the day, she'd leave this room, walk away from Chloe and her Mom, back to her own home. To the loving embrace of her own mother. And her own, still quite alive father.

 _Not..fair. It's not fair! I'm a failure! I'm SUCH a failure, oh Chloe, I'm so sorry! What can I do? How can I make you feel better. How can I...?_

She stifled a soft groan, closed her eyes tightly as a wave of pain swept over her forehead, burrowing down acidly into her stomach, where it blossomed into another fresh swell of nausea. Max told herself it was just from all the shittiness of William's passing, blithely ignoring the fact that the headaches began a good month earlier, although they'd only rapidly grown in frequency and intensity since that day.

As she worked to figure out how to distract herself from her own physical pains, she squeezed Chloe a little tighter, tenderly stroking her sandy blond hair; then stared off into space, letting her gaze focus into an intense spot against the wall in Chloe's bedroom, where a recent-taken Polaroid picture was hanging

The two of them, from happier days not long before, but forever-distant in the past. William had taken the picture; it had been his last.

 _IT'S NOT FAIR!_

Max screamed in her head, instantly regretting it as the urge to vomit bubbled up from her stomach, tasting hot and nasty in the back of her throat. Pushing it back down, she sobbed, reaching up to clear her eyes of tears, and then found herself pulled back to the photo again.

The way it seemed to fuzz in and out of focus, as if by its own accord. As the intensity of her fixation upon the picture increased, a strong memory of the day began to flood her mind.

 _...almost like...like I can hear us talking. Voices. God, we sound so happy then. Will we ever be like that again?_

Max felt the world grow tighter and smaller against her, until there was nothing left in it except her, and the photo. To the point where she couldn't even feel Chloe pressed against her body. The voices in her memory grew sharper, louder. Filling her ears. The Poloroid took on an eerie, hyper-realistic quality.

Almost as if she could fall into it. A personal rabbit hole.

There was a palpable _snap_ inside her head, like a rusty chain link smashed with a hammer. She'd meant to scream at the sensation, if only she could. But she wasn't herself anymore, wasn't in Chloe's bedroom.

There was only another time now, another place.

* * *

A white flash blinds her, fills her vision completely.

Another second or two, and the pieces fill in. Sound and scent come next. Touch and taste join the party.

Layer by layer, the world reconstructs until...

"Someday, Dad'll get one of those newfangled computers."

"I hope the flash didn't scare you, Max. This...is a keeper."

"Not until I see it first! You know the rules, Dad. Max, tell him. Whoa, hey, you look totally pale. Are you okay?"

 _Oh my...oh God! What is this? Where have I...oh shit. Am I dreaming? Hallucinating?! This all seems so real. Too real! This was only two weeks ago, but I feel like I'm actually here._

 _What's happening to me!?_

"Yeah, I just...Uh yeah. I'm fine." Max lied.

Stunned, she allowed Chloe and William's continuing discussion to fade off into the distance, with their talk of eggs, and France and breakfast.

This was Chloe the way Max remembered.

 _I - I've lost my mind! Maybe those headaches were a-a tumor? Oh shit! Maybe I'm dying! Maybe..._

It was all she could do to keep from hyperventilating, allowing the ever growing thrum of panic to narrow her vision down into a tiny point, fill her with terror, make her curl up on the carpet and whimper, begging for normality to return.

But then a new idea suddenly stuck in her mind:

 _Wow. I've gone fucking crazy! Totally super stupid mental. Okay. Right. Okay Max. Go with the flow. Your brain wants you to relive a horrible flashback, you go and tell your brain to just...to just eat it! I'm going to take charge! I'm going to make this dream go the way I WANT it to go. The way this day SHOULD have gone!_

 _Wait, what DO I do, anyhow?_

Just for fun, she started by picking up the camera, and calling out, "Now I get to take a picture. Strike a pose!"

"Make me a star!" Chloe demanded.

"Just make me look young." William affably asked.

 _There! That...that was nice. That was a nice thing that I did, that never happened. What other nice things can I do, that didn't happen on this day? Oh! Look!_

Max tried not to giggle too loudly, a warm giddiness spreading from her chest and fuzzing up her brain. She picked up a piece of charcoal and started sketching out a butterfly picture against the stone of the fireplace.

 _Yup! That's pretty. Really pretty! Okay, what's next?_

Max's sanity frayed around the edges. Peals of laughter threatened to burble their wayout her throat, until the phone rang.

 _Joyce. Joyce's call._

She could feel the chill clench around her heart. William picked up the phone, and then...

"Hey honey! Just making a fabulous breakfast with Chloe and Max!"

 _No! Nonononono! I don't want to see this again! This MY crazy dream! I don't have to let it happen this way!_

As she looked around the room in a panic, her mind sharpened itself anew, trying to recall how the day previously unfolded. Struggling with the need to make a snap decision in under a minute, to chose a critical path to take.

 _The keys! The car keys! If he can't find them, he can't leave. Yeah! Ha ha!_

She snagged them, then walked over to one of the potted plants.

 _Plant, meet keys. Keys, plant. Have fun!_

Her dream, however, seemed to have different ideas. A minute later, her small triumph was smashed into tiny pieces as the modern marvel of twenty first century technology led William right to where he needed to go.

"Now for crying out loud, how did these end up there?"

 _What?! He's leaving! No! No fair! It was good! It was a good idea. This is MY dream, and I can't...can't let it end like this._

William walked to the door, to the white fuzz bordering the edges of the dreamtime. With a strangled, petulant cry, Max called out, "No!". Reached out with her hand, in a futile, grasping gesture.

Another chain link in Max's brain snapped, and the world wobbled and spun. Reality began to peel back, shuddering and juddering all around her, like old style film stuck inside a reel to reel projector.

With a gasp, she stopped herself. Watched the dream pick up from where Chloe and William were working at the stove. Let loose with another soft, low laugh, as the full effect of her newly discovered power, and the control it gave her over her immediate surroundings struck home.

 _Oh...YES! YEAH! Who's the Dream Queen? Max is the Dream Queen! Eat my awesome, stupid brain!_

But stupid brain apparently possessed a competing agenda..

She tried unplugging the home phone.

William's cell phone rang, instead.

She tried to call Joyce, warn her off.

Joyce was already gone.

She tried to answer the home phone herself. "Wrong number!"

William was not amused.

Again and again, she forced the dream to pull back, erase and rewind, and each and every time it found a clever, maddeningly frustrating way to defeat her. Unable to take it anymore, she grabbed the keys again, opened the glass door, and chucked them forcefully into the yard.

 _Fine, brain! You wanna play hardball? Deal with this!_

Max waited, tapping her foot, almost relishing the opportunity to discover how she'd be thwarted this go around, in the latest revolution of "Max Caulfield's Olde Timey Insane-O Helter Skelter Ride-type Experience."

Winning was the one thing she hadn't counted on. It threw her entire rhythm off.

"Of course. Last time I order from SpyGuy Electronics."

 _Hee! Check, brain! Check, and now mate!_

"You can take the bus, right? The stop is right down the street!"

As she made her pitch, Max couldn't help but think she deserved kickbacks from the Lincoln County Mass Transit Authority; the way she effusively sung the ineffable, inexhaustible praises of taking the bus.

William put a quick, good natured end to her spiel.

"You sold me already. I'm off to yonder bus stop." He then turned towards the toward the door and grumbled with good humor, "Joyce will love this."

With the taste of success now firmly upon her lips and tongue, Max began to shuffle and slide about, dancing with vague abandon.

Chloe gave the other girl A Look, crossed her arms, and asked, "Max, you are being so fucking strange. You feel okay?"

Bouncing up and down in glee, Max exclaimed. "Chloe, I am awesome! We are...awesome!"

Tears of joy began to fill up her eyes, making her sight blurry. Milliseconds passed, and the dream began to fade to white, like a frame of film burning up, curling away under the heat of a projector lamp.

 _I wish it had been real! I wish it had been real! Oh God...it ended too soon._

* * *

The transition wasn't immediate, at least from Max's perspective. The threads of Time, once solid, flew apart in all sixteen thousand infinite directions of lunacy, then just as quickly seeking to re-weave themselves into a new tapestry, the story of What Is replacing the old of What Was.

"...and so I told her, the difference is: you can tune a piano, but you can't tuna fish!"

Chloe groaned, rolling her eyes at her father; despite her show of the sort of horror and embarrassment that all teenagers feel for their parents, she was smiling wide and warm.

Max looked around; sitting at the dinner table, just Joyce, Chloe, William and herself.

 _Funny. Don't remember sitting down. How did I get here? What day is it? Is this still the dream? Neat! Feels more...real somehow, though. Realer than before. As real as real is...uh...real?_

Her eyes flew over to the clock and calendar on the wall. Checked twice, then three times over again as she read the date.

It was the day of William's funeral. His burial. If the clock on the wall was telling the truth, only a few minutes had passed since Max had turned her focus to the picture on the wall. Except...except no! Now, here he was, alive and well and telling one bad joke after the other. Joyce smiled good naturedly, and Chloe...

 _Oh, Chloe._

She looked so radiant now. Happy. The way that Max always wanted to remember her, and feared she'd never see again.

"Dad, that joke is OOOOllld. So old! What bone pit did you dig it out of!? Geeze!"

William chuckled, a smile touching his eyes, "Maybe, but believe it or not, Hiroko thought it was hilarious. Once her translator explained it to her, of course. You see, a lot of Japanese humor is based on puns and word sound-alikes."

"Yeah, Dad, and the Japanese are all crazy stupid polite, too! She was probably just humoring you."

"Ha ha. Careful, daughter of mine. You say THAT, and yet all these old ears seem to hear is 'No thanks, Dad, Max and I don't need to go out for ice cream after dinner."

"What!? Hey, no fair, no fair! I take it back!"

Max glanced down at her food. Chicken and pasta, because of course it was. It was Thursday, and that was the usual meal at the Price household. She often came over that night to eat; it had become a reliable tradition, a rock solid anchor. She salivated, realizing how exquisitely hungry she'd become, and began to eat with gusto. Everything tasted better than she ever remembered, from the ranch dressing on the chicken itself to the al dente fettuccine noodles.

"Good lord, Max Caulfield. Do Ryan and Vanessa not feed you enough?" Joyce smiled, good-naturedly teasing.

Slurping up a stray noodle, Max smiled around it. Her head was spinning, her heart lighter and more joyful than she could possibly believe. She had done it.

The impossible.

 _It wasn't a dream after all. No, wait...wait it had to be._

She glanced casually over her shoulder, and stopped short as her heart skipped several beats.

The charcoal butterfly scribble.

And then she finally understood.

She'd found a miracle. Given her best friend back her father and reset their lives.

 _Please don't let this be a dream. PLEASE PLEASE, God, if you exist, and this is real, PLEASE don't let it be a dream..._

 _...or at least don't let it end._

She fought back the urge to leap out of her chair and dance about the room; to shout, hoot and holler. The world was wonderful, and why shouldn't it be? This was the age of the incredible! Wishes were granted if you truly believed, and cast them with the purest of intentions! Despite all the times that her parents tried to convince her otherwise, life was actually, honestly fair!

"I'm...it's good, Joyce. It's really...reallyreallyreally good!" She took another hearty bite, and mumbled around it, "And I'm fine. I'm great! Really great! But it's like, you know. I just wanted to say that I...how much I love you guys. Okay? Because people don't say it enough. Everyone acts like...you know how you...it's just that you never know when people might suddenly be taken away from us, and then we all wish we said stuff like this more, when we still could. So I just wanted to say that...I love you guys. You're like a whole other family to me. And you will be. Always and forever."

Joyce blinked at first, in confusion, and then swallowed, a tight, emotional smile spreading across her mouth. "Oh...darling. Max, you are just THE SWEETEST little thing sometimes." She reached over to give the girl a warm hug.

"Wow, Jesus Max. I don't know what the hell you scored, but can I have some? It's obviously awesome stuff!" Chloe rolled her eyes, trying to play it as cool as she could, but the flush on her cheeks told a different story.

William just chuckled, shaking his head, and drawled, "Well, Max. If that was your way of trying to get yourself an extra scoop of chocolate at the Tasty Top after dinner...mission accomplished." He reached over, ruffling her hair affectionately.

Catching each others eyes, the girls traded smiles. Chloe mouthed, "Score! Yes". Max reacted by giving two thumbs up.

Max still didn't understand exactly what had happened. If it was a one time thing, or if she now had a power. She didn't want to test anything, afraid it would shatter the thin soap bubble of existence. She didn't dare to do anything that might send Chloe back into the nightmare world of ten minutes ago.

She'd...she'd do anything for Chloe. Anything to make her happy.

Still, she knew she'd have to test it again. Sometime soon, a day or two, alone. She couldn't explain why, but she just felt like she'd be tempting fate far less, in her own bedroom. But she needed to know if she could keep rewinding time; assuming she did, she swore then and there to use it to make people as happy as she felt, right here and now. If the power was gone...well...maybe that's just the point of a miracle. It only lasts as long as it's needed.

Still, what a story! She had no idea how she could tell it, or who would even believe her.

But she knew exactly how it ended.

 _And they all lived happily ever after._

* * *

 **ZION CONTROL  
** **CENTRAL HQ, DAMOCLES INITIATIVE  
** **DEEP UNDER SEATTLE, WA**

"Ten letter word, down, clue is 'Mistress of Irony."

Senior Field Agent Nicole Wright chuckled low in her throat as she read the clue from the day's Seattle Times crossword puzzle.

 _Easy! M-O-R-I-_

"Morisette? Alanis Morisette, right?" called out Chen, one of the two field techs operating the controls in the monitoring room.

"No shit." Wright snorted, filling in the squares, and then casually fiddling with one of her cornrows as she slipped the pencil back behind her ear.

"Uh, have either of you guys ever noticed that there's no irony at all in that song? At least...I don't think so."

Wright glanced over to Hubbard, the heavyset man in his fifties who made the observation. She straightened up in her command chair, which sat upon a raised dais, and mused with a playful glint in her eyes, "What? Shit you say, Rob? Damn, I think you're the first man in history to figure that one out!" She followed the statement up with a saucy, exaggerated wink.

Chen covered up his mouth, trying to hide his laughter.

Hubbard retorted, "Just saying, that's why this country keeps going to hell. If you're going to write a song about something, you should MAKE it BE about that thing, you know? School standards going downhill, giving kids grades they don't deserve, just for showing up. And it's shit like this that's all a symptom of the problem!"

Wright did her best to smile amiably, then leaned over against the railing surrounding most of her seat, "Well, here's the thing: you ever consider that the whole song ITSELF is supposed to be ironic? Because a tune about irony that doesn't have any actually examples of it in the lyrics? Damn, that's some pretty weapons grade irony right there." With that, she turned back to the folded newspaper in her hand to ruminate on the next clue.

"Huh. Can't say I saw it that way. Stilllllllll, now it just sounds like she's trying to be fucking pretentious. Can't stand people trying to be pretentious, like they're smarter than they really are."

Wright sighs softly, "Oh, Rob. Never change. Anyhow, speaking of kids and shit, how's that new grandson of yours doing?"

"Great! Thanks for asking! Just the other day, he finally started..."

The giant display screen that dominated the front wall started to flash, as a soft, synthetic female voice intoned, "EMERGENCE DETECTED. EMERGENCE DETECTED...PAN-Opticon triangulating...standby."

At first straightening up, and then rising to her feet entirely, Wright called out, "Well, would you look at that? We actually got a bite, guys! First one in two years, maybe? Who won the pool, because I sure as hell know it wasn't me."

Chen spun back around, fingers flying over his keyboard. "Wanna say maybe Jenkins? I'll have to go back and check the chart. Good for him, I think there's almost a grand or two piled up at this point. He was telling me the other day how he never can afford to take the wife out someplace nice. Now he can." Another few seconds passed as he poured over the data scrolling across his personal display.

"Well, let's see what we've caught...whoa! Panny's initially tagging it at Theta-Yellow, guys!"

"What? Bullshit! That's almost the top of the scale. Hasn't been one that high since..."

Suddenly, the lights in the room dimmed low; beacons dropped from holding canisters set into the ceiling, painting the room in slowly rotating cones of crimson and yellow. The sound of soft, chiming alarms filled the air.

"The hell you guys do?" Wright demanded.

"Not us, Nikki! Honest!" Hubbard answered, quickly, glancing down at his terminal. "I don't understand it! All our terminals have locked down. Something just made PAN-Opticon go crazy!"

With an exaggerated roll of her eyes, Nicole wandered to study the readouts from the various instruments.

"Damn, and on my night to watch, too. How come this fuckery never hits Reese when HE'S on monitor duty?"

"Probably does, just no one's gonna remember, right?"

They all laughed, trying to break the tension that was forming. But the half-cocked grin bourn of bravado died on Wrights face as she glanced at the words scrolling across the screen.

 **PAN-OPTICON CONTROL HAS BEEN LOCKED DOWN UNDER ORDER PO-BS-009/CD/PM  
** **THIS SYSTEM MUST BE UNLOCKED BY AN AGENT WITH NUMBERS-4 CLEARANCE OR HIGHER.  
** **ATTENTION: ALL AGENTS AT LEVITICUS CLEARANCE AND BELOW ARE HEREBY ORDERED TO EXIT THE ROOM AT ONCE.** **  
**

"Oh. God." Wright rubbed at her forehead and sighed heavily. "Guys, you better go to the break room and have yourselves a metric ton of coffee, and just forget what you saw here. Something tells me I'm not getting out of here anytime soon."

"Yeah, sure. We're ghosts."

"Yup, on our way out. Good luck, Nikki." Turning to Chen, Hubbard remarked, "God, I hope this isn't one of those super secret things they end up shooting us in the head over. Now THAT would be ironic!"

Chen took a deep breath through his nose, then let it out quickly,Theo. That would just suck. A lot. Besides, they'll just fuck with our memories of it, instead. Perk of the job."

"Chen, don't joke about that. I'm telling you, that shit CAN'T be healthy."

Wright took a minute or two to secure the room, making sure that all the exits were locked, then performed a standard bug sweep. When that came back clean, she entered her authentication code, relieved to see that not only was it accepted, but it caused the beacons to stop flashing.

 **THANK YOU AGENT WRIGHT; PLEASE STAND BY FOR FURTHER INSTRUCTIONS.**

She tapped her foot impatiently as a call was routed through a massive number of encrypted channels. It was a good forty seconds before she was connected.

"Wright here. I'm in the PAN-Opticon monitoring room. We just detected what looks like a MAJOR Emergence event, but I'll be damned if it's anything like I've ever seen before. Uh...please advise?"

An image of an impeccably dressed woman in her early thirties suddenly filled the screen; her mane of platinum blond hair secured into a tight plait. She sat at a low, antique wood table, sipping tea from a china cup.

Speaking in a crisp, aristocratic British accent, she answered, "Davies here. And my goodness, according to the encryption envelope tagging your line, you certainly have a knack for finding delights and surprises within the most mundane of tasks, don't you?"

Nicole slumped her head forward for a moment, "No shit. Cammie. Sorry to bother you on your night off. What the hell is a PO-BS-009? "

The other woman paused, before raising a single brow. Slowly, she placed her cup onto a plate on the low table, and then turned to a small computer terminal at her side.

"Hold on...I'll answer that question shortly. I'm assuming the room is clear? It's just the two of us now?"

"You know it is..."

"Quite. I've fully unlocked the system, we should start getting a proper triangulation sequence going again."

Wright read through the results as they came through, "Hmmm...North America...On the...Midwest? No...no no. The West Coast."

A pause, and then the other woman crafted a curious expression upon her face, almost of disappointment.

"Oh, please don't be the Pacific Northwest."

"California's out, so that just leaves..."

"Oh PLEASE don't be Oregon then!"

"Hey, what's wrong with Oregon!? I was born and raised in Corvallis, you know?"

"I'm well aware. But ever since Incident 23 occurred, a higher than average number of Specials have Emerged in that part of the US. More importantly, because of THAT, there's a queer sort of background radiation that's difficult to cut through, at least from orbit. I believe you're going to find PAN-Opticon won't drill down any further than a tri-county sized region, at best.

There was another pause, as the pair waited for the data to be sifted through and processed further. The picure of the globe on the screen began to blow up, as the focus shifted onto the Northwest, then Oregon, then onto the western portion of the state. Eventually, a chunk of the northwestern coast began to blink blue.

Nicole narrowed her eyes, murmuring, "Worse than that. Whatever it is, it's not any further north than Tillamook, and not south past Douglas. Maybe. Damn, that's a LOT of ground to cover, at least six or seven counties."

"I can probably eliminate half of that with two or three days work. Got a few algorithms I've been working on for just this sort of situation. But for now, sit tight, and stay on base, please. I'll need to gather what I can, and make the initial report to Director Martinet. At the very least, I'd say expect to leave before dawn. I'll need you to prepare a three-and-one node triangulation team. Call Reese in, we're ABSOLUTELY going to need him for this. The rest of the team, I leave to your discretion."

"Right, right, roger that, bosslady. I'll load up the mobile base, and we'll be ready to go wheels up in two hours."

"Excellent."

"Hey, just one thing before you go and chitchat with the Director: what the hell DID just happen? What does that code mean?"

Davies stiffened, until she sat ramrod straight. A thin, wintry smile crept upon her lips like hoarfrost, as she answered, "Something truly historic, Nicole. And if we're very lucky? We'll never, ever see it happen again."

* * *

 _ **A/N:**_ Sooooo. Welcome to Black Swan. This is an idea I've had stuck in my brain for a long while. In the beginning, it was almost painfully, obsessively consuming. It originally was going to take life as a brief but incredibly weird chapter of Riotgrrls in Love, but there was too much potential here, and it demanded to be it's own series. The flavor is intended to be sort of a mix of the LiS we all know and love with an Agents of SHIELD twist. Despite that, this will be, at its core, a love story. Also, some unexpected people put in appearances, and That One Particular Week In October takes a fairly different turn.

First off, credit where credit is due:

A BIG thank you to **Solynna**. After giving me some an incredibly useful critique of Childhood's End, thereby turning it into a MUCH better, if slightly different story, she then gave generously of her time during a tight week for her, helping me sand the rough, overly-complicated edges from my initial plot synopsis. While she may not get a chance to beta read much, if at all from this point, she has already had an influence on this work that can not be understated. Also, she writes, and you should check out her latest LiS piece, What Does It All Mean?

 **Corentin IV,** The Ever Excellent Editor and British Bestie o' mine, who essentially rescued Once More Unto The Breach from the mid-teen doldrums I had driven it into, and helped turn it into the solid work that it stands as today, has kindly agreed to ride shotgun with me on this. Usually I go solo on fluff, but this is going to be a somewhat darker story, with a bit more complicated plot, and I know myself well enough to know that I'll never do my best without her mentorship.

Believe it or not, I actually have about 35,000 words written already, but I'm doing my best not to overwhelm poor Cory. Point being, there should be a predictable stream of chapters for some time to come. With that said, Riotgrrls in Love may need to slow up, or even take a hiatus. Sorry about that guys, but there are going to be some extremely awesome scenes of young yuri yomance...er..romance coming up. :-D

So anyhow, PLEASE REVIEW, and I hope you enjoy.


	2. Black Swan Event

" _In 1934, Enrico Fermi became the first human to conclusively induce man-made nuclear fission, though it took him several years to understand precisely what he and his team had done. This date is important in the realm of Specials oversight and administration; it represents our Year Zero. After decades of exhaustive and painstaking research, we've yet to find any evidence of Specials existing at all before that time. There has been much speculation as to whether the act of splitting the atom lowered some sort of 'quantum threshold', thus allowing for Specials to arise; given what we do know of how their abilities operate, there may be no small grain of truth in this hypothesis._

 _To recap from the initial oral briefing, Specials are human beings born with the potential to Emerge. Complicated changes rapidly manifest within their brains, usually sometime between the age of 15 to 22. Though we still barely grasp the mechanics of it, the metamorphosis brought on by an Emergence allow Specials to affect the fabric of reality through the direct mental manipulation of quantum phenomena. These effects can be as obvious as pyro, cryo and telekinesis, enhanced strength, endurance and reflexes, or the creation of solid light constructs. Other abilities are more subtle: from the common mind control to the more exotic influence over probability and chance, or even, as in my case, broad, across the board boosts to cognitive function: intelligence, creativity, intuition, etc._

 _Complex sentience appears to be a requirement for Special ability; curiously, there are a small handful of reports that suggest similar abilities have arisen not only in elephants, but several types of cetaceans as well._

 _Currently, there is no known method of detecting a potential Special. After Emergence, only intense sub-atomic scans or specialized tMRI tests can spot the difference between a Special and a Mundane. Though not always a requirement, a moderate majority of Specials report that their Emergence came about during a moment of intense personal stress or tragedy._

 _Specials are broken down into three sub-categories. Those with obvious powers that directly affect the outside world and require a certain amount of concentration are known as Actives. Those, such as myself, with powers that are 'always on' and often only affect the individual themselves, are known as Passives. The third and rarest classification are Nulls. This group occasionally possesses minor secondary abilities, but by and large, they are able to effectively cancel out the powers of almost all Actives, and many, but not all Passives. What few Nulls are known to exist come in a widely differing spectrum of strength and range, and I'm rather proud to note that our own Agent Wright is one of, if not the most powerful Null on Earth._

 _Research indicates that Specials do not exist in the population at concentrations greater than one per five million humans. While this creates a potential worldwide pool of roughly 1400, we have reason to believe the actual numbers are quite a bit lower. Not all Specials survive their Emergence with their sanity or even their lives intact. Sometimes, the results can be quite dramatic, even permanently affecting our planet at large. (Please see attached subsection Appendix B: Incidents 1 through 33.)_

 _In 1968, the United States government formed the Specials Oversight and Administration Project as an independent task force, and for many decades, it was primarily dedicated to research and development. However, in the wake of 9/11, SOAP was given far broader powers and goals, and largely reorganized into a "black branch" of Homeland Security known as the Damocles Initiative. In short, our mission today is to detect, recruit, train and utilize the abilities of Specials in the service of protecting the interests of the United States and its allies._

 _When a Special first Emerges, there are certain unique sub-atomic interactions that can be detected at a distance with sophisticated sensor equipment. There appears to be a certain 'strength' to Emergence, which often but curiously does not always directly correlate with eventual 'power'. Agent Tim Snord, for instance, almost completely failed to be detected by the PAN-Opticon, despite his ability to bench press 5 tons and comfortably go for a month without food or water. The window of opportunity to track Specials from orbit, or through the use of customized triangulation vehicles, decays rapidly over time, usually lasting no less than one week, and never more than three. Once the so-called 'flare window' is past, it becomes far more difficult to detect a Special at long range. It's as if the Emergence of a Special temporarily disrupts reality itself, but as it copes to adapt with the change in situation, a new normal arises, and things settle out._

 _While Specials can be extremely useful, or even dangerous, their potential to affect the world at large is limited by the rarity of their numbers, and the fact that none have Emerged with truly world-shaking, godlike power. Furthermore, every government in the world with their own Specials team has managed to acquire at least one Null, and so the balance of power has been largely maintained._

 _Still, what keeps most of the DI awake at night is the thought that this status quo could be disrupted at any moment. At present, I see no reason thus far why a so-called 'quantum leap', where we suddenly see the Emergence of much more powerful Specials, is out of the realm of possibility. In a very real sense, we may be witnessing the beginning of a new phase of human evolution at work._

 _Good luck, Director. And welcome again to the DI."_

 **Except from Specials: An Overview.  
** **Prepared October 2007, by Senior Field Team Leader Camilla Davies.**

Paul Martinet was a thin, almost wiry male in his early to mid fifties. A successful tenure at Homeland Security had, as of six months ago, secured him his current position as Director of the central branch for the SOAP. Though HE certainly judged himself capable on his own merits, he'd also found Camilla Davies' insight and expertise invaluable in coming up to speed. He'd made noises and put out feelers about pushing her up to Deputy Director, but she demured so far. He knew the type though; she was effectively the head of field operations as well as overseeing a large chunk of research and development - owing largely to the fact that she required almost no sleep - and he could hardly begrudge her the desire to keep from being stuck behind a desk for the rest of her career.

Sitting back, he started, "I'm still getting used to the big chair here, Camilla. Walk me through what we're looking at here. Why is this Emergence so special? And what IS a PO-BS-009?"

Davies slowly recrossed her legs and tapped at her data pad for a few seconds. With measured grace, she took a breath, before diving straight in with with her explanation. "Fifteen years ago, I transferred to the SOAP from Task Force Excalibur in order to head up research and development here. One of our first projects was the design, development, and deployment of what is now our most current iteration of the Planetary Awareness Network. As part of the process, I came up with a list of what I call 'black swan events'; moments in history that are both unprecedented and unexpected, but with the benefit of hindsight, cause experts and even lay people to ultimately declare 'it was bound to happen.' The term itself originates from the discovery of black swans in Australia in the 17th Century. Before that time, scientists had declared with certainty that all swans MUST be white. When new and unexpected evidence to the contrary was suddenly discovered, zoologists threw up their hands and admitted, "Oh! Of COURSE there are black swans. We should have known it all along."

"Ah. I'm only just aware of the term...it's a rather new development, isn't it?"

"From a public perspective, the theory of how to detect them is quite a recent development. I've allowed others to pick up and run with some of my initial work, and apply it to statistical modeling. MY black swans, however, are theoretical Specials with abilities that could completely shift the balance of power, reshape the course of human development. Or even change our understanding of reality itself. In many ways, we've been fortunate so far. We've yet to see the Emergence of any singularly superior individuals; no Supermen, no Wonder Women. But I always assumed that sooner or later, it was 'bound to happen'. The black swan list was an exhaustive catalogue of what I felt would be the most dangerous, most unexpected, and world disrupting powers: things such as massive strength and invulnerability, long-distance teleportation, significant control of any of the four Fundamental Interaction forces, the creation of massive amounts of free energy, and last, but certainly not least: temporal manipulation."

Martinet steepled his fingers together, tapping them against each other for a few seconds, as he composed his thoughts. "I'm going to assume that by saving the best for for last...that's what we're talking about? That whoever has Emerged has the ability to what? Travel through time? See the future? Change the past?"

"Yes. Maybe. One, or possibly all of those things. Understand, I didn't exactly know what specific signs to look for when I was inventing the sensor technology and coding the algorithms. I ran millions of simulations, crunched every scrap of available data we had on hand at the time, and continued to update those algorithms as new information became available over the past fifteen years. We don't know for certain that we've discovered a time controller, but whatever we DID stumble across thirty six hours ago, it appears disturbingly close to what I THEORIZED it would look like."

Martinet gripped at his chest for a moment, could feel the heartburn burbling up from his stomach. He'd only been briefed on the existence of Specials shortly before being offered the position. Six months seemed hardly enough time for him to completely grasp the full ramifications of their existence.

"Christ. We picked a hell of a time to change administrations." He chuckled, somewhat derisively, at himself. Truth be told, when he first took the job, DI had impressed him as something of a milk run: a good capstone to a career with no more than ten years or fifteen years left. A nice way to take the victory lap, given how quiet and predictable the situation with Specials had been for at least the past two decades.

"With all due respect, sir, I think a fresh pair of eyes may be helpful. Because in a very real way, the game is about to change. We've enjoyed a certain level of superiority, and the rarity of Specials has helped minimize their disruptive influence on society. Whoever manages to find him, or her...well. We're potentially talking the Manhattan Project, the Trinity test, Fat Man, Little Boy. All that rolled up into one."

"Damn. You don't pull your punches, do you Davies?"

"I...could be wrong, sir. Once we catch up with them, we may discover it was but sound and fury, with the appearance of much, but actually meaning little."

He tilted his head, and sighed heavily. "Have you ever BEEN wrong?"

She gazed upward at the ceiling, twitched her lips, then answered, "Oh my, yes. Once. When I computed my yearly prediction for the Superbowl back in 1997, I missed the point spread by two! I mean, I still won the office pool that year, of course, but...my God. I had such egg on my face!"

Martinet was torn between laughter and anger at the situation he now found himself in. Switching gears, he asked, "I know intel's probably sketchy right now. Do you have anything at all? Who else might know? And WHAT they would know?"

Once again tapping away at her datapad, Davies answered, "I have enough data at present that I can combine with what I DO know of our various rivals and their abilities, and make a projection with a 91.18357 percent rate of accuracy, plus or minus half a point variation."

He smirked, "Only 91.18357?"

She grinned back. "Bear with me, sir, it's the best I could do on such short notice. Right then: The Russians and the Koreans probably have no clue, although they'll eventually figure something's up. It's just a matter of time. The Chinese MUST know something is going on, because I've already detected a strong uptick from their cyberwarfare divisions making attacks on our server farms. Bless their hearts, they almost got through the first firewall. They have their own detection methods of course, but I suspect they can only track things as far as the entire West Coast. Fortunately, they've yet to figure out how to cut through the background noise left by Incident 23. At least as far as we've been able to tell."

"Europe?"

"I've done my best to keep their questions at bay. Blighty especially is ever-so-curious, with any number of old Excalibur contacts trying to cozy up to me, and the French and Germans are blowing up DHS's email accounts at present. But as far as they and the rest of the EU knows, this is simply an Emergence with a particularly loud 'ping'."

Bringing his steepled fingers up to the tip of his nose, he blew out one word. "Japan?"

Closing her eyes, and giving a shrug, Davies remarked, "I'm just glad they appear to be on our side, sir. Rising Sun is easily the best funded, and most capable Specials group after our own. Shimeko Tetsumaru - she's sort of my counterpart over at RS - JUST left me an intriguingly pointed message as I was on my way to your office. If anyone's figured this out, it's them. But given our two groups past history, I think if we come clean with them sooner than later, and promise to share our research data, they'll back off. They might even help keep the rest of Asia off the scent, if we catch them in a good mood, and impress upon them how important this is. Also, if we really ARE talking about trying to understand the effects that a time controlling Special might have, they possess some unique expertise we might benefit from."

Martinet laid his palms flat on the top of his desk, and slowly, almost wearily, lifted himself up to his feet. Pushing back from his chair, he walked over to the glass window and looked out across the skyline of Seattle. It was a holographic projection, done to give the illusion of being above-ground, when in reality, Zion itself was a considerable distance beneath the city streets. Furrowing his brow and then drumming his fingers against the glass, it was a good minute before he finally spoke again.

"Clearly, we can't mess around with this one. I want you back with your team in the field as soon as this meeting is over; find our target ASAP." He paused, pulling off his wire-framed glasses, removing a lint cloth, and took the time to wipe the lenses. As he replaced the glasses on his face, he added, "Furthermore, I'm retroactively classifying this as an Omega-Black Emergence."

Davies paused, clearly not anticipating this. "That...seems a bit extreme, Director? With all due respect, Omega-Black has only been used to categorize Emergences that ultimately spiraled into Incidents; literally, the only reason that label exists is to give us a catastrophic top level on the grading curve"

He nodded once, "It also gives us extraordinary legal powers as to how we handle this situation."

Narrowing her eyes, Davies said, "The Wayden Amendment. Ah yes, one of any number of goodies sitting in a black file, waiting for an event like 9/11 to come along so that it could take advantage of the chaos and panic, and glom onto the PATRIOT Act's passing."

Marinet gave a soft, singular laugh, "Robertson warned me on the way out that you were going to be a pain in the ass."

Smiling almost painfully, she replied, "I prefer to think of myself as the conscience of the Initiative, sir."

"Well, you're still here after fifteen years, so you've managed to figure out how far you can push it. Robertson said that, as well. Regardless, while I appreciate your concerns, if this is as unprecedented and historic an event as you've presented it, then we could be looking at a national, possibly even a global threat. I'm not taking any chances."

" _Not while you're still this green"._ Davies thought to herself.

"I...appreciate your abundance of caution, sir. But Theta-Red might make much more sense at the moment. Certainly no higher than Omega-Green; it would be a less...well...alarmist way to classify the situation. Omega-Black..." she drifted off for a moment, waving her hand in the air, as if to pluck the next set of thoughts out of the air. "If we were looking at something with Incident potential, we'd clearly know by now."

"How so?"

"Well, for starters, there isn't a giant smoking crater in the ground somewhere in Western Oregon."

"Yes, well, you say this is time manipulation. How do we know the past hasn't been altered in some catastrophic way already?"

"That would be difficult to detect, to be certain. Once we secure the Emergent, I might be able to discern how to create some sort of - I don't know - temporal interferometer, for lack of a better term. Still, I must stress, Director, this COULD just be a mouse that roared. For all we know, whoever we're looking for might be able to see but a minute into a future. Or they could only peer back in time. Or they could not so much sense the future, but every potential future, making it difficult for them to discern which one comes to pass. All of these things could be useful, even dangerous in the wrong hands, but hardly Omega-Black material. What I'm saying, is that the subject could turn out to be a Passive, not an Active. But getting back to the original point, thirty six hours in, there would be NO debate about whether we've already witnessed an Incident or not. It'd be too damn big to ignore"

She stopped short, the color draining momentarily out of her face, "Oh! Oh...bloody...hell!"

Martinet blinked, turned quickly back to regard Davies.

"No offense, Camilla, but your reaction suddenly fills me with a boatload of dread."

"My apologies, but it should have occurred to me sooner! We may not be seeing obvious signs of an Incident, but that doesn't mean that this Emergence isn't playing havoc with the local reality while the flare window's passing. To an extent where other people will notice as well. Give me just a minute, please."

Her fingers began to fly over the tablet with almost lightning speed, face falling into an almost unreadable mask of concentration. Martinet returned to his chair and waited.

"Damn. I've been so wrapped up in coordinating with Nicole and preparing reports, that I've completely neglected to check anything my personal software agents might have found scouring the news feeds. And...yes. There. We. Go."

Martinet leaned forward, anxiety written on his face. "Well? What did you find?"

"Yesterday evening, there was a freak snow flurry. Early October, not entirely out of the realm of possibility, but damned unlikely. That alone wasn't enough to get on my radar, but this..."

She handed her data pad to the Director, who quickly scanned the display.

"UPDATED FIFTEEN MINUTES AGO: MULTIPLE WHALE BEACHINGS REPORTED IN LINCOLN COUNTY, OREGON. FULL DETAILS TO FOLLOW..."

"Beached whales, while rare, aren't unknown on that part of the coast either."

"Yes. But in the exact same town?"

Understanding lit up in his eyes. "I see. Is this just the beginning? What sort of danger are they in?" He double checked the screen. "This...Arcadia Bay."

"Hard to say, sir. I won't know more until I can get there, and take more precise readings. Let me stress though that the fact there still IS an Arcadia Bay is a highly encouraging sign. That said, I'd put the National Guard on quiet standby. In case we need to prepare for an evacuation. The good news is that whatever 'fallout' is occurring, it WILL eventually stop happening. Especially if we can secure and move the Emergent away from their current location. Or at least...it has in past cases. That'll lower the localized...well...I refer to it as the Chaos Field Index.

"I suppose that's some comfort then. How quickly can you get out there?"

She cleared her throat, chasing away the look of uncertainty from her features, and continued, "Agent Wright and her team are out in the field. Douglas County. They've not had any additional hits so far, which is rather unusual, but if this Arcadia Bay is the place, then I imagine we should have this situation wrapped up well before the flare window passes. By the time they've driven the distance, I'll be on the ground to meet them there, if I leave within the hour."

He nodded once. "Do it. Keep me informed. I want reports every six hours. Two, once you start making solid headway."

Davies rose from her seat, turned on one heel, and made her way out of the office.

"Oh, and Davies?" Martinet called out.

She hovered at the door. "Yes, sir?"

His face softened. "I'm not Robertson. I hope you'll find that out on your own in time."

Giving a pleasantly neutral smile, she nodded. "As you say, sir."

Striding through the door and down the hall, she mused to herself.

"Whether that's a good or a bad thing is what worries me."

* * *

 _ **A/N:**_ So I actually rode solo on this chapter. It occurred to me that if I really wanted to try and get a quick pace going on the first four or five chapters, I was going to need to occasionally take over some of the editing duty myself so as not to overload poor Cory (who actually has like...a life and things!), and hope that I didn't botch it up too badly. This was an easy one; I'm a pretty big fan of world building. The next chapter will be several days to at least a week off, and after that, I might try once again to edit a chapter on my own.

Have a good evening!

 **8-19-15:** Fixed a typo where a line that Davies was speaking was attributed to Wright. Who isn't in this chapter at all. Thanks to **NuqueerWarhead** for catching that!


	3. The Very Short Reign of SuperMax

"Milk goes up! Milk goes down."

Max was finding this hella amusing.

"Milk goes up! Milk goes down."

And she still couldn't believe what she was seeing either.

For the past fifteen minutes - at least from her perspective - Max couldn't stop grooving on this trick: intentionally spilling a glass of chocolate milk across her desk, watching it make a huge mess, and then rewinding it back. Watching with rapt delight as the milk flowed back into the glass, which then righted itself onto its base.

"Milk goes up! Ha ha! Yeah. I'm going to win SO many bets with this! Somehow..."

It'd been a couple of days since Max dreamed she went back in time and saved Chloe's father. Only it wasn't a dream! She was sure of that now. For whatever reason, she somehow changed the present. Erased a horrible, stupid, unfair tragedy, and made life better for herself. And more importantly for her best friend, and for Joyce and...and MOST importantly for William, who would be so happy and proud if he knew how she'd managed to save him from death.

At first, she was scared to even THINK of trying to rewind time again. She was absolutely certain that tempting fate like that would be punished, by God or Reality, or whatever let her do what she did. That if she tried to see if she still had a power, things would go back to the way before; no William, and Chloe...

...there was nothing Max wouldn't do to make sure that her best friend was never sad like that. Ever again.

The past few days got a little weird though. First there was snow out of the blue, and how cool was that? But you know, global climate whatever, just like the news was talking about, right?

It was the nightmare she had that night that really left her shook up. The one where she helplessly watched as a massive tornado bore down on Arcadia Bay with the fury of an ancient demon awakening. It seemed so real. Not as real as when she went back in time and only THOUGHT she was dreaming.

But there weren't any nightmares when she woke up today.. If anything, she slept really well, determined to make the best of her Sunday as she could. Her homework was all done, and she didn't have anything planned with her parents. What to do?

Oh! She'd go see Chloe of course.

 _And maybe show her what's happened!_

 _Huh._

 _Then again, maybe not._

Max had no idea what she'd say, or even how she'd prove it. As far as she could tell, she was the only person who could 'see' the unwinding action as it was happening. She'd tried to surprise her parents with it at breakfast this morning, intentionally spilling her milk, and then rewinding, to see if they would notice. But they just kept on eating breakfast like everything was normal.

Besides, if she did tell Chloe, what did she do next? NOT tell her about how she saved her Dad? She'd probably yell at her about it being a stupid joke and...and...

...she couldn't stand the thought of making Chloe unhappy. Even if it was for good reason, to explain something cool and neat and awesome.

Her cell phone beeped as a text came in. Reaching into her pocket, she fished the small device out, flipping it sideways and sliding the little keyboard out. A huge grin broke out on her face when she saw who it was.

 **che-burger: yo max. u there?**

 **maxthemad: hey che! :) sup?**

 **che-burger: no emoticons! also, why u no on facebook already? u set up ur account yet?**

 **maxthemad: oh! shit. forgot. been a weird weekend. gonna do it soon, promise. but i wonder whats the point, i got myspace already, and we text.**

 **che-burger: omg dude! you are so lame sometimes. but i totes forgive you :)**

 **maxthemad: hey! no emotes :-b**

 **che-burger: don't start something you can't finish max. Still, i love you and forgive you. srsly though, get on facebook, so I can friend you. everyone else is on it!**

 **maxthemad: ha ha, finefine. u wanna come over and help me figure it out?**

 **che-burger: yes! we will make your profile pimpin'. and then we will rule the facebook world.**

 **maxthemad: ha ha! can't want to see. fine, see you soon.**

 **che-burger: u bet. see yus**

 **maxthemad: jaa neh!**

 **che-burger: no kawaii! okay, maybe a little.**

Max giggled and then ran out of her room to call down the stairs, "Hey Mom! Chloe is coming over. Do we have snacks and stuff?"

"I just made chocolate chip cookies. You can each have TWO. The rest are for after dinner. Why don't you ask Chloe if she'd like to stay for that. It's steak and potatoes."

"Oh awesome. Thanks!"

Max bounced back into her room and then flomped back onto her bed. She wasn't sure why, but lately, she was so happy to see Chloe. Even before the whole adventure in time, it seemed like...she didn't know. Just that being around her made things a lot more fun. It struck her as weird, they'd been friends since Max was four, and Chloe five, but something changed lately, at least in her mind.

 _I'm glad she's still wanting to hang with me at all; now that she's in high school, and I'm still stuck in seventh grade. Man, when we both are in high school, that's going to absolutely ROCK! Although damn, if she gets into Blackwell next year, then...well, screw it Max, you're just going to have to make it there too._

Fifteen minutes later, Chloe came running in, out of breath, but clearly with a mouth full of cookie. She chewed, tried to swallow, and just mumbled out.

"Mmmygawd! M'x...M'x!" She worked enough down her throat and tried again. "Max! Get on your bike. Seriously, you need to check out what's happening on the beach! It's...it's really sad, but kind of cool too. But you should bring your camera!"

"Sure. Dunno what could be so exciting on the beach. It snow again?"

"Trust me. You'll get it when you see it."

With that, they ran out the door and towards their bikes.

* * *

There was a knock on the rear door of the van. Wright reached out and grabbed the handle, revealing Agent Meredith Reese. A young, slim, black haired male in his late twenties, both hands loaded with drinks and baked goods from the local coffee shop.

"Coffee's on. Here you ladies go. Hopefully the local chow is good, because there doesn't seem to be a Starbucks for miles. This close to Seattle, I can hardly believe it. Those guys must be slipping."

Wright grabbed her coffee, foregoing the offer of milk, but dumping several packets of sweetener into it before stirring. Taking a long pull, she murmured. "Nah. That's just Arcadia Bay. Creepy ass end of the state."

"Huh. Yeah? Sounds like you have a personal history with the place? Oh, and here's your hot chocolate, bosslady. And a scone. I'm sure it's not up to your exacting standards, but do take pity on us humble mortals." He smiled wide, before settling down in his own seat in the monitoring van, unpacking his bagel and latte.

Davies paused to blow on her drink. "While I will NEVER apologize for criticizing the quality of what you Americans think passes for a proper beverage this...is actually not bad. A little on the hot side, but made in the traditional Parisian manner. Color me surprised." She then canted her head over to the other woman and added, "And yes, seems Nicole here grew up not too far away. About an hour or so, correct?"

"Yeah. Stick out enough as a black woman in Oregon, even in a college town like Corvallis, but this place? DAMN it's lily white. My friends and I, we'd sometimes come down to the coast here 'cause it was a quiet place to go for the beach." She snorted and took another long drink from her coffee cup. "Ton of those rich-ass prep school kids from the local artsy high school...place's called Blackwell I think? Didn't make it pleasant for us."

Taking a large bite out of his bagel, Reese chewed slowly, an uncomfortable look on his face. "Oof. Yeah, sorry, didn't mean to bring up such lovely childhood memories for you."

Giving a casual roll of her shoulders, Wright mused, "No bad. No skin off my back. Truth of it is, there WERE some pretty okay people here. Decent diner here too, place called the Two Whales, makes an okay cup of coffee, much better waffles. But seriously, this is one of those towns that time and prosperity just forgot. There's the one or two rich families that own most of the place, and then everyone else is struggling to get by, once the fishing stopped being so good. That, and a bunch of the manufacturing jobs moved out after NAFTA blew through. Just always thought this place belonged in a Lovecraft novel. You know, kind of like Gloucester, up in Massachusetts? 'Cept that place is downright fucking charming by comparison."

"Weird though, that you grew up next door to this place. Given how rare an Emergence is. I mean...bosslady, you probably know the statistical likelihood of..."

"Incident 23." Davies and Wright intoned as one, cutting Reese off before he could finish.

"Yeah yeah, Jesus, I fucking swear, I'm going to push my nose to the damn grindstone and get to Deuteronomy clearance someday, just so I can get a look at this stupid Incident list." He then gave a sly grin, and glanced sideways. "Oooor you could tell me first, when YOU make it, Nikki? Don't worry, you can tell me, I'll make you forget you did, everyone walks away with a clear conscience."

Wright smacked him on the back of his head with the flat of her hand, and exclaimed, "Meredith, this is why no one invites you to parties! Because you're fucking creepy...and you have a girls name." She smiled around the rim of her coffee cup, laughing bemusedly.

"Oh! Come on! That's not true!"

"I'm afraid she's right. You absolutely have a girl's name." Davies' facial expression betrayed no emotion, although there was a smile that touched her eyes. She glanced sideways at the display, and whatever amusement she felt was quickly dashed.

"Ohhhh no. I know THAT look... More bad news?"

"No. But not exactly good news either. The CFI level has stabilized as last but...it's not dropping either, like it should. No doubt, we're going to run into more curious and random phenomena, more alarming in appearance than an actual problem but...". She paused, tapping at another display on her console. "I'm going to need to run some more simulations. There are a few troubling looking interactions I've starting picking up in the long term meteorological predictions for the Northwest. On it's own, it doesn't seem like anything more than background noise, but once I plug the CFI data into it, I'm afraid we're not going to like what we see."

"Great. More reason to hope that Doctor Who-ever The Hell It Is gives us another ping soon. We had a bunch of them in a row while we were driving here, but it's gone quiet again."

"The fact that they've started using their abilities again at all is encouraging. And we've cut at least several days of work off, figuring out where it was we needed to go. Shall we place a small wager on how long it will be until we find them?"

"What? With you? The walking-talking supercomputer? Do you see sucker tattooed on my forehead, Cammie?". Nicole shook her head. "But you feel like heading to Chinook Winds once we wrap this job up, and I'm more than happy to listen to whatever advice you have about rolling dice or playing cards." She sighed heavily and then said, "Not that I think we'll have the time. Too bad. Would have been nice to drop in and say hi to my Momma while I was out here."

Davies continued to stare holes in her screen, and murmured, "Chin up. It's a school day. Something tells me we'll be quite busy, soon enough"

* * *

"The Magna Carta, Mr. Sonerson. Signed by King John at Runnymede in 1215."

Max had the sweetest smile on her face as she answered the question.

"Good job, Max! That's exactly right. I knew I could count on YOU to have done the reading. Everyone, you could learn from Ms. Caulfield's example."

 _Yes! It worked! It so fucking worked!_

She glanced over to the blonde girl sitting a couple desks over from her. The one currently seething at her, shooting daggers with her glare.

 _In yo' face, Vicky! Woof woof woof! I am Ms. The Bomb!_

To be honest though, Max was feeling a lot less so.

" _So who can tell me what document first established the principle in England that even a king was subject to the law. No hands? Anyone? Alright, how about you, Max?"_

Oh God. It was so embarrassing. She'd gotten so wrapped up in hanging out with Chloe, and checking out those whales - oh god, those poor whales. It was so sad! - that she absolutely forgot that she spaced on her history homework.

 _So much for thinking I did everything ahead of time._

She totally flubbed it. And of course, that stupid, smug little bitch Victoria Chase beat her to the punch.

" _The Magna Carta, Mr. Sonerson. Signed by King John at Runnymede in 1215."_

Max got so angry then. She didn't mean to do it, it just happened by instinct. She rewound time. Gave herself a second chance.

A chance she didn't hesitate to take.

 _Ha ha! She totally knows she was going to say the exact same thing, and I beat her to it._

Still, she couldn't shake the notion it was kind of a selfish, jerky thing to do.

 _Guess I'll have to balance it out somehow, right? I should find a way to use my power to do something nice for someone. Otherwise...who knows. Might get taken away._

* * *

"Whoa! Ding ding ding! Kids, we haf un weener!" Reese remarked with a playful tone. He then picked up the CB mike and thumbed the transmit button.

"Bill, Ted, Ruffus. This is Phonebooth. Please tell me you just saw what we did, over?"

"Bill here, yup, over."

"Ted reporting, roger that, over."

"Ruffus here. Affirmative, over."

"That's good. We don't HAVE it, not exactly, but I've got it narrowed down to somewhere in the northern side of town."

"Anything interesting up there?"

Wright immediately broke in. "I know for a fact that Blackwell's smack in that region. I mean, AB Junior High is too, but..."

Davies finished, "...chances are most likely we're looking at a high school student. And it DOES fall into the zone where our readings came from. Right then. Mere, give the order to move the vans into position around this Blackwell school. But remind them to please be SUBTLE about it."

"Oh yeah. Four black unmarked vans in a run down fishing village. I hate to break it to you, but I'm pretty sure we lost the element of surprise the moment we rolled in at dawn."

"Hmm. Doesn't matter. Now that we know it's Blackwell, we'll only need another good hit or two before we have a solid idea roughly which classroom. Then we've got the hard job of trying to weed out which individual child we're looking for."

"Yeah. Sucks that it's Blackwell though."

"Oh? What do you mean by that, Nikki?"

"Just that I checked, and they don't have any surveillance cameras. No security footage we can ask for. ABJH, sure, they're a public school, so that goes without saying...federal grants and mandates. But Blackwell's private, and I know for a fact they've never bothered. You know, because there's never been any history of rich white kids going nuts and shooting places up."

"I do so love your dry social critique, dear. Be that as it may, we'll just have to roll up our sleeves and do a little old fashioned detective work."

Reese and Wright both glanced at Davies, then back to each other.

"Bet you she calls it in three minutes after we walk in the door."

"Hmmm. She's good...but I don't think she's that good. Five. No more than six. Fifty bucks, same as usual?"

Wright smirked. "Sure. Easiest fifty bucks you're ever gonna lose."

* * *

Max wandered down the noisy halls, still feeling pretty good about turning a dark moment into a small personal triumph. She scanned the halls, trying to keep an eye out for anything she could do to 'pay it forward'.

 _Look out, world. SuperMax is on patrol._

In the social Serengeti that was junior high, she knew it wouldn't take more than a minute to spot some sort of fucked up behavior. She wasn't disappointed when she spotted a lacrosse jock by the name of Tim Wells reach out and knock the books out of some other kids arms; the poor guy wasn't looking where he was going, fell right into the trap.

"Nice going, GAY-rham! Haha!"

A half-minute's rewind later, Max ran up ahead to warn him.

She leaned in and murmured to the other boy. "Hey. Warren, right? Watch out for Tim, okay, I just heard him say he was looking to fuck with the next person that walked by him, and he's right in your path."

The messy-haired, tow-headed boy glanced up from comic book he was reading, glanced over at the jock and his entourage, and then looked back to Max. "Oh! Oh shit! And I almost blundered right into that. Man, what a douche that guy always is. Yeah, I'll go the other way. Hey! Thanks...it's ah...you're Max, right?"

"Yup!"

"Thanks again. I won't forget what you did."

He favored her with a wide, goofy smile, as if noticing her for the first time, before heading off to his next class.

Still, Max couldn't let it end right then and there. She walked up to Tim, looking the larger boy straight in the eye.

" 'the fuck you want, ho?"

"Oh nothing. Just gonna kick you in the dick, is all."

And so she did, rearing back with her foot, and slamming it into his crotch, as hard as she could.

She didn't let it last though; instead, she soaked up his delicious howls of pain and agony, but stopped the flow of time and forced it to wind back before his sidekicks could grab her. She then continued on her way to class, hoping that somehow, in another universe, he still remembered that. And also remembered not to be an asshole.

 _Oh yes! I am mighty! Watch out, bullies. I am gonna make you all bow before me!_

* * *

"Oo-rah! Yeah, that's one...and bang! Two together! We have you, kiddo! We so fucking have..."

"...no. No we don't, Mere."

Reese blinked. "Yeahbuhwah?"

"I'm saying it's not Blackwell. It's obvious from the data streaming back from the triangulation vans that it's not. I...I mean I ASSUMED that it had to be an older teenager, because it's always...shit! Black swan has struck again. I of all people should have known better!"

"Whoa. Hold up, Cam. You saying we're in the wrong place?"

"I'm absolutely sure of it now. Best as I can make out from the latest calculations, it's either the junior high or the police station right across from it. If we move the vans into position to encompass both places, we should be able to figure it out the next time we get a ping."

"Well isn't it obvious that it's the school?"

Davies smirked and finished off the dregs of her hot chocolate. "You feel like making assumptions again?"

* * *

"Alyssa?"

"Uh, what?"

"Just duck, okay."

"What?"

Junior high could be the worst sometimes. Today wasn't any different, as a few 'soccer-bro's' started tossing pieces of fruit between each other before randomly kicking them towards kids in the lunch room.

Still, Alyssa COULD be a little slow on the uptake, and it took Max a good three rewound tries to convince the pudgy girl to move her head out of the way before she got hit with a banana. This time, she took no chances, physically pushing the other girls head to the side. Then stopped.

 _Oh. Shit. I could do this, I could do this SO much better._

She smirked to herself, even as the piece of fruit went sailing by both of them.

 _A little rewinding. A little observation. Abra kadabra, one two three, annnd..._

"Hey Alyssa."

"Uh, what?"

Max reached out, timed it perfectly, so that she snatcehd the flying banana out of the air, just barely an inch or two from Alyssa's face.

"Look out. Assholes ahoy in the lunch room today. Want a banana?"

Alyssa's eyes bugged out in disbelief. "Wha-? H-holy shit! Max, that was amazing! How the hell did you do that? And thanks, God! That would have hurt." She glanced over at the banana and then shook her head. "No thanks, never eat the fruit from the cafeteria. Trust me."

"Yeah well, we gotta stick together in this hellhole, okay?" Max slowly rose up, ignoring the awed looks on the faces of the kids surrounding her at the table, as she got ready to head to her next class.

"Just do me a favor and pay it forward sometime soon, right?"

"What? Oh, oh right. Yeah. You bet, Max. That was awesome!"

Turning so that the huge, dopey grin couldn't be seen on her face, she quickly dashed off to math class.

 _Oh man oh man oh man! So cool! Maybe this could be my job, or something._

* * *

"Yup. That's the school alright. ASSUME-ing it's a kid." Reese said, teasingly accentuating the word, "the little zit factory's someone on the first floor. South side of the building. Hold on, uh...I'm pulling up the plans from the town hall."

Wright and Davies stared at the same display, the same frown on their faces.

"So this is the end of the line, right?"

"Afraid so. The background radiation effect makes it nearly impossible to narrow it down any further. We'll need to see who's in those classrooms, and then round the children up. Find an excuse to scan each and every one of the individually. The alternative, and what I'd usually prefer, is to wait until the end of the day, and see where the trail of breadcrumbs leads us, once we have fifteen to thirty suspects. But the more I'm looking at my weather simulations, the better I think it is that we get our Emergent out of Arcadia Bay before another day or two passes."

"That bad, huh?"

"Not at the moment. I'd prefer we kept it that way."

Reese piped up, "Ooookay. The readings are centered on one large classroom. Normally, I'd point out that we're out of our jurisdiction in terms of trying to hack into the video feed, but since Martinet slapped the big ol' Omega-Green label on it, it's not such a deal now. I mean, it's not as sexy as Omega-Black, but..."

"No need to be so jolly about it, Reese."

He paused for a moment, then nodded, looking apologetic. "Fair enough. It's easy to complain about getting around 'Constitutional messiness' when you're not on the pointy end of the state's blade. Anyhow, this'll be easy. There's an NSA backdoor built into most public school surveillance systems. I'll just knock on it..." Reese paused for a few seconds as he taped away on his keyboard, before continuing, "...et voila! Weeee...has video."

Davies patched it through to the largest of the color monitors, standing up as best as she could in the cramped van, then tapped her lips in concentration as she studied the children and their teacher.

"Oh I know that fucking look. You best be having my fifty dollars ready, Reese."

"What? C'mon, she hasn't even STARTED yet. It's gonna take her a lot longer than three minutes to figure..."

"Her." Davies spoke, with crisp confidence. "That one. I'm certain of it." She then reached down, fiddling with the controls until a separate window emerged, with a blown-up close up of Max Caulfield's smiling face.

" _Hello, sweetness. You're all smiles. Far more than a thirteen year old schoolgirl should be. Can I guess why? Did you figure out the secrets of the universe? One moment, you're plain Jane, and the next, you're the baroness of the block? Queen of the universe?"_

Under her breath, she murmured, "Good lord. She's so young..."

* * *

 ** _A/N:_** And we're back to **Corentin IV's** steady, professional hand editing this chapter. Much love and thanks to her for taking the time out from a busy weekend to look it over! I'm going to try my hand again editing solo on Chapter 4, which I imagine should be out sometime on Friday or Saturday. I just finished up the first draft of chapter 5 today, and I have 6-8 (possibly 9) in various states of completion. In a week or so, I imagine we'll hit a slowdown while I get all that polished.

OH BTW! After far too many months away, Cory has finally added a new chapter to her incredible Sinchi: Downfall saga, so if you like Mass Effect (or just good, gritty, noir drama in general) check it out NAO! :)

Thanks, as well, to all you lovely folks reviewing. It is the grist that fuels my creative mill! Or something...


	4. Extraction

_**A/N:**_ Hi kids. I'm sure there is some confusion tonight. I'm more than happy to explain it (however tersely) after our feature presentation!

* * *

"Her. I'm certain of it." Davies said, stabbing a finger at the image of Max on the screen. "In the, what is that? The t-shirt. Who's Invader Zim?"

"Oh, my kid brother loves that damn show."

Wright peered over the other woman's shoulder. "What? The girl with the brown hair pulled back into a ponytail? I'm gonna seriously regret asking, but why her?"

"Look. Just look. It's so obvious."

Wright and Reese both stared for few seconds at their superior officer.

"Obvious to you, Ms. Considers-Calculus-To-Be-Foreplay, but I'm pretty sure Mere and I don't..."

Reese clapped his hands together. "I get it! I totally get it. I mean, I don't think I would have if you hadn't pointed it out, but yeah-ha!"

Wright shook her head, "You're just saying that to look smart."

"No! Really, it's ah...okay, look at all the kids other than her. You see anything weird?"

"You know I don't! Seem like the same damn bored-as-hell kids in any school and...oh."

"Yeah, yeah, you get it?"

"You mean how girly in the middle looks like she's high as a kite, the way she's smiling end to end? Yeah, that sticks out. On the other hand, I suppose she could be legitimately tripping on something, but given the situation, I'm gonna guess no."

"Precisely." Davies said "Like you said, she sticks out. Everyone else in that classroom is playing their part. But not our little miss, here. No. She seems positively delighted, radiant even. Like she knows something."

"You mean like the answers to next week's test?"

"Or...or maybe someone tried to bully her, so she went back and killed their grandfather so they wouldn't be born?"

The British woman snorted sharply. "Good lord, Reese!"

"What? I'm just saying, you give a junior high kid a bit of reality-warping power, and they turn into total little assholes. At least, that's how *I* remember school."

"Well, no one in that school's going to be warping anything now. I just saw to that." Wright reported, with just a hint of a smirk.

"Good thinking. How long can you hold the stasis field?"

"If I'm just painting the building and nothing else? Shit, I can do this all day. I mean, don't ake all day, but there's no real rush."

Reese chimed in. "And I've just hacked the local cell tower. Looks like our mystery girl's got a itch to text. Maybe she's gonna tell her girlfriends 'Look at me! I can totally guess next week's Powerball! And the numbers are gonna be...dot dot dot..."

"Man, that's a pretty specific fantasy you've got going there."

He shrugged and tapped away, clicking through various icons and typing in lines of commands. "If it's all the same to you, I'd like a little more than just my Damocles pension to retire on, thank you very much." He paused, then transferred what was on his screen to the main display.

"There it is. At least I think it's her. Shit, these kids like to text a lot. God, I would have killed to have a cell phone when I was in eighth grade."

* * *

 **maxthemad: Che.**

 **che-burger: what?**

 **maxthemad: Che!**

 **che-burger: what!?**

 **maxthemad: ..u mad? :)**

 **che-burger: no smileys! god i am too cool for you now**

 **maxthemad: no ur not**

 **che-burger: i am, but chem is sooooo boring, i'll still talk. n-e how, sup?**

 **maxthemad: 2 whales after school?**

 **che-burger: sure. ill scam mom to get us fries**

 **maxthemad: yes! i got sick news for you**

 **che-burger: o rily?**

 **maxthemad: ya rily. awesome awesome. so awesome. hella awesome**

 **che-burger: sensing a theme here**

 **maxthemad: had to figure out how to explain it to you. but ill totes show you at 2W**

 **che-burger: werd. oh shit, gotta go!**

 **maxthemad: lates**

* * *

"Explain to me again why *I* have to be the one to go undercover? And why now? Can't we just snag her when she goes home?"

Reese was smoothing out his blazer, hastily changing out of his field uniform into a generic black business suit kept on hand for just this sort of situation.

"Number one, we're only ninety-nine percent certain. It could go extremely pear-shaped if we're wrong on this, so I need the last bit of confirmation. The watch you're now wearing is a close contact sensor of my own design. It works through the body's own bio-electrical field, so you'll need to touch her, for about five to ten seconds. Once it has a solid enough reading, it will send back the results, which I can then confirm. Number two, it needs to be YOU, because a devastatingly gorgeous, brilliant to the nines British woman, and a...smart, classy..."

"You can just say 'a black woman', Cammie. Believe me, I know you and I are way too memorable for keeping a low profile in Whitebread Bay. Especially when the local yokel cops are bristly as hell because we're operating in their neck of the woods. Reese, not only do you look like you belong here, but," she turned to the other man and said, "You can just zap their brains a little afterwards. "

"Not while you've got your field up."

"Actually, you can. I'm SO damn good at nulling these days, I can exclude you from it. It's...complicated to explain." Wright turned to Davies and added, "Now, that kind of trick does put an extra strain on me, so no one fucking dawdle, alright?"

"Hopefully, this will go fine and dandy. Public schools are more or less conditioned to respond to shows of authority. On the other hand, small town schools are a little less trusting. Again, why we're sending you in there. If we wait to track that young girl down, and find out that her parents are not only rich, but litigious...well, it doesn't exactly stop us, but it makes things much more unpleasant. Especially if it turns out we have the wrong girl, highly unlikely as that seems."

Reese was still largely unconvinced, and tilted his head towards Wright, "But can't you, oh, I don't know. Sense her somehow? I mean, if you can exclude me from being nulled, but not her, you need to be able to sense us in some fashion, right? So if she tries to use her power, and you stop her, can't you, uh, you know, feel the vibrations? Yes? No? Maybe? Like how a spider feels things on a web?"

"Mmm-nnn. Doesn't work like that. Like I said, it's complicated. Once I see you in front of me, I'm able to tell the part of my brain that nulls to just ignore you. And it does, for the most part. But detecting Specials, let alone 'feeling' them when you can't see them? Doesn't do that. Never has for any other Null I've heard about, either. Be nice if it did. Instant Special detector. Maybe next Emergence, we'll get lucky and pick one of those up."

After helping him with his tie and suit jacket, Davies handed Reese a badge. "I pulled this from our falsified credentials pile. Say hello to the new you: Special Agent Harold Vakarian of the Federal Bureau of Investigations. Technically, we have their permission to be doing this sort of thing, but in practice, it makes them rather tetchy, so please don't push your luck."

Reese scrubbed at his face, before grabbing the badge and peering closely at it. "Good...God! Really? Do you have any names that sound, you know, even _faker_ than this one?"

"What? It tested quite well in all the psychodynamic simulations I ran it through."

"Yeah well, computers don't know everything."

Wright clapped him on the shoulder. "C'mon, Reese. This'll be a fucking milk run for you, so get to it."

Shaking his head, he opened the door from the back of the van and slumped his way out. After taking a minute to compose himself and put together a quick cover story, he slowly walked into the school.

He reached up, turned on his earpiece, and put on a pair of black shades.

"I really hope you've got a backup plan, bosslady." Wright grumbled as she watched Reese depart.

"Oh I have six. But really, all he has to do is get us that scan and confirm what we're already pretty sure is the truth. How hard can that be?"

Looking down at the fresh wad of bills she'd recently scored, Wright grinned. "I've got fifty bucks, if you're looking for a wager."

* * *

A static, crackly announcement rang out across the school PA system: "Max Caulfield to the Principal's office. Max Caulfield, please report to the Principal's office."

There was a tight, thick knot sitting heavily in her stomach as Max slowly trudged her way over. A million paranoid worries plagued her mind.

 _OhGodohGodohGod. It's...it's the...I don't know. The Government? The Karma Police? Oh God, I'm in such trouble now! Fuck! Oh fuck. I was only trying to help people. Just trying to be good. Wait! Wait, maybe this is good news! Yeah, like people have been talking about how awesome I'm being today, and they want to just give me an award or something._

 _..._

 _Oh I am so screwed!_

 _Wait. Wait wait wait. C'mon! This is...this is stupid! Don't be a baby, this is stupid! I'm sure they're not calling you up because of your powers, and not because of you being Ms. Awesome Citizen but then..._

 _Oh God! What if something's wrong with my parents! What if they got into a car accident, and they're hurt, and that's why they're calling for me?!_

There was no use running. If she WAS in real trouble, they'd find her, one way or the other. Still, she thought about trying to rewind as far as she could, then fake being sick. If she was fast enough, maybe she could get out of the building before the PA announcement was made, so she could fake ignorance.

She even gave it a shot, but found that her powers had suddenly abandoned her.

 _Great! What a fricken time to get an anxiety attack! Probably messing up...up whatever this power is. Or maybe it stopped? Great! Thanks! Thanks God, I put all this time in to make sure good things happen to people, and you take my time-winding away just when I need it most._

 _Be cool, Max. They can't prove anything._

She put a nervous smile on her lips, and walked through the door.

"Uh. Hi? I'm here. Did...is there something wrong?"

Principal Kitteridge, sixties, of medium build, graying at the temples, turned from the man he was speaking with, affixing Max with an even, comforting smile. "Hello, Maxine. Thank you for coming. And no, there isn't any problem. At least you're not in trouble, according to the Agent here?" He looked over at the man with a confident, albeit somewhat suspicions stare.

"Oh, no no no. Ms. Caulfield, please believe me, YOU'RE not in trouble at all, I promise." He held up his badge, and then walked over, holding out a hand. "Special Agent Harold Vakarian. I'm with the FBI, but please don't be alarmed."

Max took the hand gingerly, enough for a brief shake, but dropped it as fast as should could.

 _FBI? OMG! How the hell could they even find out so fast? This is really getting scary now!_

A voice hissed in Reese's earpiece, "Damnit. Too quick, I didn't get a proper reading."

"I just need to ask you some questions. Principal Kitteridge, I'm afraid I need to ask for just a few minutes of privacy. Do you mind if Max and I use your office?"

"Not at all, go right ahead. It'll, ah, give me time to check on a few things." The other man looked meaningfully at the phone.

Reaching out and gently holding onto his shoulder, the agent retorted, "Oh, but I seem to remember you were going to get us a couple cups of coffee, right? I could really use that. And Max, you like coffee, right? Who doesn't, mmmm...love that java. Right, so...if you wouldn't mind? Three cups maybe?"

A grey cloud of confusion drifted across the Principal's face "Oh...oh of course, I uh...I must have forgotten about it earlier. My apologies. Certainly. I'll be back in a few minutes."

Max stared at her Principal, then back to the FBI guy.

 _Okay..that? That was kind of creepy. Oh fuck, I am SO in trouble._

A few seconds later, the pair walked into the Principal's office, sitting down at the large mahogany desk.

"Sooo...Max. Or is it Maxine? Do you have a preference?"

She started to stammer "I-I just. Max. That's fine. Thanks. I don't really like Maxine."

"Yeah, I thought not. Now...Max." He reached out again, placing a firm hand around her arm. "Okay, look, let me just reassure you, everything's okay. You aren't in trouble. We just have a few concerns about some of the people you might be friends with. People you probably don't even realize pose some, oh, shall we say, concerns."

 _Is this about Chloe?! What? No! Chloe's not dumb enough to get wrapped up in weird shit._

"Almost, just hold it a few seconds longer." hissed the earpiece.

The two of them stared at each other, an uncomfortable silence filling the air.

"That's it! I'll just need another minute to crunch the results. Keep her occupied!"

Max glanced down at the hand the agent had on her, and then back to him. He blushed before quickly removing it.

"Ahem. Anyhow, our records indicate that, ahh..." He paused, as if trying to recall something. "You...ah...opened a Facebook account. Yesterday. At 4:32 p.m."

Max's eyes widened, then tilted her head, "Wait. R-really? You're here because of Facebook?"

 _Chloe! Fuck you, I told you we should have stuck with Myspace!_

"Oh, oh yeah. Yes. See, I'm with a branch of the FBI that handles...uh...social media. Awareness. Yes, new program. We randomly pick new Facebook enrollees at random," he paused to wince, realizing how awkward the statement sounded, "and we sit down, have a friendly chat with them. You know, about how to stay safe online, , 'stranger danger', that sort of thing. It's educational. Just a public service to the community."

Max felt more confused than scared now. There was something clearly off about this entire situation.

"Uhh. Okay. No offense, I'm sure you're really good at your job, but this seems really...excessive?"

The agent paused, then chuckled, "I suppose it does look that way. Just a little. But you know, the brass upstairs, they figure, "Wouldn't it REALLY get the kids attention if we sent out actual agents. Make a big impression? I mean, it obviously has with you, right?"

With wide eyes, Max nodded. "Y-yeah. It has."

 _This can't be real. There's no way my luck could be this good! But...maybe? Jesus, I was almost the first thirteen year old to ever die of a heart attack._

"See. There you go! So we'll have a little chat, and then you go off and tell your friends all about how serious the FBI is about making sure they stay safe online."

In the van, Wright was laughing until tears came out, as she taunted Reese over the earpiece, "Oh my God! You...you're terrible at this! And you have a girl's name! Ha ha ha!"

"Nicole, please! Reese, I've got confirmation. It's her, I repeat, it's her. You need to try and convince her to come with us. The less of a scene we make the better."

Max felt a flood of relief, as well as disbelief sweep through her. She wanted to get out of this conversation as quickly as possible. "Mr...uh...Agent? Thanks but, I-I think I know all about being safe online. My parents? You know, they had this conversation with me last year. You can call them up and ask if you don't believe me. Anyhow, can I go?" She started to rise up, without really meaning to.

 _Okay. This is total bullshit, right? I mean, the government spies on everyone these days, but who wastes money sending out FBI agents to go randomly talk to kids in school? Guy's probably like...a kidnapper or something. I should go and tell the Principal something's funny._

Quickly raising both his hands in a pleading gesture, the man that Max strongly began to suspect was not actually with the FBI said, "Alright. Okay. Look, just sit down a moment Max. We'll cut through the crap, and get to the truth, yeah?"

It was enough to give her pause, though she didn't immediately sit back down.

He cleared his throat and loosened his tie. "So tell me, Max. You have any interesting life developments lately? This past Friday? You know, out of the ordinary? Strange. Maybe good, maybe bad, but definitely the sort of thing that makes you question what you know about space. Space, and especially time?"

 _OH FUCKSHITSHITFUCK!_

Max gasped, far louder than she intended. Her head swam. She didn't so much sit back down as fall into her chair from shock.

"Gotcha."

There was another long pause as Max's mind raced. Unable to fathom how she was found out. More than that, it was like a slap across the face. It brought her back to reality, off the cloud she had been floating on since she came back from saving William.

 _Oh God. It's real! This is all real. It really happened! There's no...I'm...I'm in trouble! Such huge, fucking trouble! The government knows, and they probably have laws about going back and changing the past, and they're gonna lock me up in Guantanamo Bay, and I'll never see my parents again and..._

She bowed her head, and started to sob piteously.

The agent kept his voice as calm and quiet as possible. Clearly trying to be reassuring.

"Max. Please. Just...just come clean with me, okay? I promise, I really do, you're not in trouble. I just want to understand what's happened. Can you tell me? What you did? How it happened?"

Eyes wet, bottom lip trembling, voice tight and high pitched, she began to blubber out her explanation, "I-I only wanted to help. I really did. I wasn't going to do anything bad. It's just - *hcck* it's just Chloe was so sad about her Dad dying, you know? It hurt so much *hcck* *hcck* seeing her in pain like that. It wasn't fair. I don't even know how it happened, HOW I did it...but I went back in time. I went back a couple weeks, and I saved him, and time suddenly - just - it caught up. But different. He was alive! I saved him! But I swear I don't know how!"

He handed her the box of tissues, and she wiped hard at her eyes, blowing her nose. It all poured out of her, in a frenzied torrent. "I changed - I changed the past. I thought it was a dream at first, but then I found out when I came back I could still rewind time around me, too. Not a lot, you know, just by a few minutes? But I'm promise, I'm being good! I'm only trying to help people with it! I'm not...I'm not going to commit a crime or anything with it. I swear!"

"My God." Davies whispered in awe.

"...shit." Wright added.

"I believe you, Max. I believe you. Look, my name's not Harold, obviously, although I am with the US Government. But my name's actually Mere-" He paused.

"Reese. Call me Agent Reese." He tried his best to reassure her, placing an honest hand on her shoulder this time. "I know you're scared now. Probably confused, too. Although you looked pretty happy back there, for a while? Like you said, when you were helping people. But we don't have a lot of time, so I'm going to give you the quick and dirty version: you're a Special. You have powers. I - I have them too. Like I said before, I represent a branch of the US Government that administers and trains people like us and...uh...we help people."

Max wiped at her eyes again, and looked up, fear transmuting to confusion. "Wait. Are you...am I a superhero?" The rising note in her voice was ringing with curiosity, even hope.

"Ahhhh-ha-haaaa yeah. You know, I hate that term. Why don't we leave it at having powers, and helping people?"

Where before there had been only icy cold dread, and a panicky despair, she now began to feel - well, she wouldn't call it elation. But it was definitely something positive. Like this was going to be the start of something great.

Barely smiling through her tears, she asked, "Do you have a codename? You know, like a secret agent superhero?"

Groaning at that, he answered, "No. Not really. I mean, when the organization first started, they thought it was cool to do that sort of thing, but that's the Sixties for you. I think Rising Sun, which is another group of people like us, is still all about the codenames, but you know hey...Japan. For everyone else, that kind of thing went out by the 1990's. These days, we just go by each other's name, or field codes if we think there'll be an open channel. Althoooough..." He smiled roguishly at her now. "Bit of a rite of passage. Once one of us graduates to full field agent status, the rest of the group stick the poor sucker with a fake codename. You know, just for shits and grins. Not that it really gets used."

"Oh? Cool, what's yours?"

"Retcon. But ah...we can talk about that later. Look, here's the important thing, Max. When a Special...well...we call it Emergence, but when a Special gains their powers, it can be dangerous. Not always, but sometimes. Dangerous, as in, strange and alarming things can happen in the nearby world around them, for a good week or two."

A fresh wave of fear welled up in her sternum. What only minutes before seemed like a source of carefree joy, a blessing that any kid would kill for now felt like a dark and bitter curse. She hugged herself, willing her heart to stop beating so hard.

She made the connection, probably a lot quicker than Reese expected her to.

"Oh...shit! The whales! Are you saying the whales were...me?" She squeaked the last word out, a fresh wave of guilt-induced tears ready to pour forth.

"Max, now calm down. It's alright. Not your fault, I promise you. No one is angry over that. It's a thing that happens. Like a fire or an avalanche or a tornado..."

 _My nightmare!_

"I - oh no - I. The day, when I saved Chloe's dad? After all that, and I went to bed? I - had. Nightmare. I dreamt a tornado came and destroyed everything! The whole town! Oh God! It's going to happen! A tornado's going to destroy everything, and it's my fault!"

Davies calmly, but forcefully intoned through the earpiece, "Reese! You have to get that girl out of school right now. We need to get her to her parents and resolve this issue, but by hook or crook, we are moving her out of town tonight!"

Despite the comfort and calm he put into his voice now, Max could feel the tension lurking just underneath it.

"Max, it's going to be okay, I promise you. I'm sure that was just a dream. Now listen to me, because this part is important". He got out of his chair and then kneeled down, meeting her just a bit below her eye level. "One thing that we've discovered, in the case of Emergences that are..." he paused, as if trying to find the right word. "...one's that are strong. It's that if we get that person out of the area, the problems with reality start to defuse quickly. Like pulling magnets away from each other. So what I'm saying is that if there might be a tornado coming because of your Emergence? The best chance we have to stop it is to get you out of Arcadia Bay for a while."

Max shook. She feared she might not be able to breathe.

"I know I've just laid a huge truthbomb on you, and you're gonna need to process, but we also need to get you out of school, alright? I promise though, we're going straight to see your Mom and Dad. Think you can hold it together, at least 'til we get to the van?"

It took her a minute. She nodded quickly, but she didn't mean it, not at first. She grimaced, forcing down everything raging inside her mind, smashing it into a tight ball to be dealt with at a later date. Gave her eyes a final wipe and sniffled, "If I go with you...will everyone be okay? Will they all be safe?"

"I-I think so. Believe me, Max, we have some of the smartest people in the world on top of this right now. No matter what happens, everyone's in good hands. So just let me know when you're ready to go. Although we probably shouldn't take too long."

"Y-yeah. Just gotta...give me another minute, okay? I should totally calm down. I don't know why, but it seems to be making my powers not work."

"Oh! Yeah well that...that's..." He paused. "That happens too sometimes, in the beginning. Comes and goes. Don't worry though. In fact, it would probably be best if you used your powers as little as possible until further notice."

Giving herself a tight hug, she closed her eyes, and focused.

 _Okay Max. Okay. You've got this. You're not in trouble. You're...you're being recruited. By the government. Wow! Like Tony Stark at the end of Iron Man! You're going to go and help people. I know this seems totally scary right now, especially with the dead whales and maybe a tornado. But these guys seem nice! At least Reese does, even if he's kind of a dork. But he sounds like he knows what he's talking about. So right. Yeah. No more crying. No more freaking out, at least for today. Time to be a superhero now, Max! Go!_

"Alright. I think I'm ready to go now."

She and Reese stepped out from the office, just as the Principal was coming back with coffee.

"Is-is everything alright, then?"

Placing another firm hand on the other man's shoulder, Reese smiled. "Yes! Quiet. Thank you for looking after Max. I'll take her home now, so she can get some rest."

There was a faraway look in Kitteridge's eyes as he paused. "Right. Of course. I completely understand." He looked to Max, "And what you're going through is perfectly natural, Max. All part of growing up. I know you'll feel better in a couple of days."

As the pair exited the school, Max looked up and asked, "Uh, did you just do...like your thing to the Principal?"

"Mmmmhmmm. I-uh. Well, I can change memories around on the fly. Add, take away, that kind of thing. Your Principal's now under the distinct impression I'm your Uncle Harold, come to take you home because ah-God. How do I say this? You've got a really bad case of cramps today."

Max was aghast.

"WHAT?! Dude! That's so wrong! Damn embarrassing! Don't take this the wrong way b-but you suck as a superhero!"

"Yeah, but you and I share something in common, kiddo. We can make people forget what we did to them. Something tells me you're going to make me look like an amateur."

"W-wow? Really? You think? Coooool! And that's compared to all the other awesome guys you have? I mean, you probably have like a whole base filled with people who can walk through fire, and blow things up with their eyes, and...and tear apart metal, and all kinds of things. Oh man! I can't believe...I'm going to be a superhero! This is cool! Oh, oh! Call me Flashback, okay? No, no, wait _Princess_ Flashback! No, wait. That's way dumb. Just Flashback. No wait...okay, I'll figure it out later, alright?"

Trying his hardest to hide the pained expression on his face, Reese opened up the door to the back of the van and waved Max in.

He hesitated a moment before joining her.

 _She's young. She's too damned young for this. Surely Martinet's going to see that. And then...maybe...?_

He was going to finish his thought with the word "normal" popping in somewhere. Then realized that wasn't meant for the likes of girls like Max.

Not anymore.

* * *

 _ **A/N:**_ Woo hoo! Welcome to Black Swan Saturday!

That's...a thing I'm trying to make happen. At least for a little bit. I have this chapter and the next all queued up and ready to go. Chapter 6 is finished and needs editing, Chapter 7's almost done, Chapter 8 is done-ish and needs revisions before I send it to editing, and Chapter 9 is about 30% written. Everything else is in a combination of "my head" or written down in plot synopsis format. But man, I gotta tell you, writing a series with a significant buffer ready to go? Awesome. Absolutely awesome. So yeah, long story short, maybe for once, I'll actually be able to publish on a regular schedule, at least for a month or two.

A YOOOGE hug and thanks to **Corentin IV** who kindly proofed two chapters at once. I'll try not to overload her like that for a good long while :-)

Things You Should Check Out This Weekend:  
 **  
Princess Of The Blacks** by **Silently Watches** : Harry is Jennifer Black, one of the worlds most powerful Voodoo Queens. I usually eschew these "Harry is pissed, precious and powerful" pieces, but Jen Black is a fun, awesome character. And let's be honest, we all like to watch Dumbledore get kicked in the dick on occasion. Still, despite her initial Mary Sueness, she actually makes sense as a character, in the way she gets away with stuff, but not without a lot of clever strategy, plotting, and having one's childhood ripped away from them in the most terrible fashion possible.

 **The Unsung War** by **RED78910** : My bud RED _just_ finished this ME series today, so now you can read it from start to finish. He takes the unusual tactic in writing mostly with OC's, filling in the cracks and the background details of what's going on when the camera isn't on the canon heroes. You'll wish Allan, Herja and the rest of the crazy gang were at least given their own DLC.

 **The Downward Spiral** by **Szept** : I'm not a LoL fan, but he's gotten me interested in it with this gritty, noir take on the property. Lets be honest, if you don't know anything about LoL, you still know who Jinx is. I'm just curious to see how this works out to be a classic "diametrically opposed personalities become yuri lovers" sort of thing. It should be a hoot!

 **Second Date** by **rowanred81** : Pricefield at it's most disgustingly adorkable.

Okay, so that's out of the way. So people are possibly asking: Who is this Lyta Halifax, and what did she do with Hugo?

Highlander style, I have challenged him in the ancient ways, defeated him, decapitated him and taken his power for my own. Nommy, nommy power!

Ok...I don't want to write a long and involved explanation as to what's really going on. Some of it is in my profile now. People who know me best know why the account name changed. Others who are curious enough are more than happy to inquire of me privately. I guess I just want to say that this is the culmination of a long journey, pretty much since I first started writing here. And people who should be thanked know who they are, and have already been done so. :)

Anyhow, I'll see you here next Saturday night. Have a good rest of the weekend!


	5. A Creeping Sense Of Dread

Max stepped into the van, feeling shy and uncertain about what to say next. She looked back behind her, taking comfort as Reese, the closest thing now to a familiar and friendly face, climbed in behind her, and closed the door.

"Um. H-hi there?"

She raised a hand in greeting towards the other two occupants in the back; a tall woman with near-white hair and killer fashion sense, deeply engrossed in looking over web sites on a big computer screen, and a younger looking African-American, hair braided into bleached cornrows, who greeted her with nod and an expression that was just on the gruff side of neutral; appraising her like the rent-a-cops did at the local mall when they thought she might try and shoplift something.

Reese patted her shoulder - and she had to admit it made her a little jumpy when he did that now, after having seen him in action - smiled and announced, "Ladies: this is Max. Max, this is Senior Agent Camilla Davies, whose secret power is..." and at this he clasped his hands together, and with a terrible Mary Poppins impression, said, "...being practically perfect in every way."

Davies suddenly looked up, clearly not realizing the two of them had entered the van until a second ago. She touched the giant screen and cleared away whatever was displayed there, but not before Max got a look at something that read "MYSTERIOUS BIRD DEATHS...". She smiled, eyes just a little too wide with surprise, as she raised a hand in greeting.

"And this," Reese continued, "charming, cuddly teddy bear is Agent Nicole Wright. She's great with kids."

Wright flipped Reese a middle finger, and then turned back to look down at her, narrowing her eyes. Was she scanning her? Was that like her superpower? Max couldn't help but think Wright didn't like whatever it was she saw inside.

Davies cleared her throat loudly and narrowed her eyes at Wright and then Reese. "Children, might I remind you we have an impressionable youth in the van with us? A little more decorum than usual, please." She then turned to her and smiled softly. "You'll have to forgive them; there's a certain amount of informality in our group, given the extreme rarity of our abilities."

Max's head swam for a few seconds, at how screwed up and weird it seemed. Gaining the ability to rewind time should have prepared her for this, but she felt totally out of her league. She mentally grasped for what it was that felt off; maybe it was the realization that was wasn't alone in the world. That she was a member of a community now. Perhaps an exclusive club, maybe the most elite in the world, the way Reese made it sound.

But she wasn't alone. Not so singularly special. This morning at school, she was the summit of the mountain. By the afternoon, she was the new kid. The odd girl out. It felt like starting junior high all over again.

It was both a comfort and a disappointment.

It was Davies who spoke first. She leaned over towards one of the seats built into the side, patted it, and said, "Max, why don't you sit over here, and we'll have a nice chat."

Max did as instructed, looking back over at the other woman as she found a seat just across from hers.

 _Wow, at least she looks and sounds the superhero part!_

Unsure of what to say next, she asked, "Um. So do I get one of those cool jumpsuits, too?"

Davies looked down at Damocles standard field uniform: a tight woven, close-fitting long sleeve shirt with a DI insignia patch - a silver sword pointing down with a red thread running up from the pommel, and the words WE ARE THE THREAD HOLDING BACK THE SWORD OF CHAOS stitched around the periphery- sewn into the shoulder. Worn with canvas cargo pants replete with pockets, and a tunic that looked like it was made out of leather, except there were stiff looking inset plates over what Max guessed were vital areas of the body. Zipped up all the way to the top, with a mandarin collar. While Wright wore hers with sensible boots, Davies' looked much more fashionable, with a good inch or two of heel on them.

It was Wright who answered: "You pay your dues, put in the training, become a field agent, then yeah, you might EARN the right to wear it."

The other woman reached out, patting her hand, "Oh, I'm sure Ms. Caulfield has the mettle to make it. If field work is what she so desires."

Reese glances over sideways, and mutters, "If they even give her a choice..."

Max ignored the remark, and instead asked Davies, "Yeah? What makes you so sure? You able to 'feel' that? Is that one of YOUR powers?

"Obvious deduction. Item one: you've witnessed something greater and more miraculous than almost every other person on this planet will ever hope to see, while at the same time potentially turning everything we know about temporal mechanics on it's head. The average person would have tremendous difficulties handling the revelation. It would clash with their notions of religion, reality, the order of the universe, and so on. Instead of going mad, or fearing yourself demon possessed, you've embraced it with relative grace and elan"

She began ticking off her fingers. "Item two: your natural instincts from the start have been to help people where you can. Granted, we've not be witness to it, but if you did indeed Emerge through the act of saving your friend's father...well. That sort of thing sets a tone, doesn't it? Fixes you onto a particular path. Item three: In less than an hour, it's been revealed to you that you're not alone in this brave new world and that you'll need to leave home in short order. Maybe it doesn't seem so unusual to you, but I don't think you realize how mentally unprepared most people are when their powers first develop. People a good deal older than you."

"Wait? This isn't like...a puberty thing? Don't most of your..er...our kind get their powers when they're kids?"

"Ah. Well. There is SOME thinking that puberty does plays a role in the process. But you're one of the youngest recorded Emergents in history, I believe. I think the previous record-holder was fourteen?"

 _Great. What am I? A freak in a world of freaks?_

Reese laughed. "Davies, don't act modest. We all know YOU were the 'previous record holder'"

Max glanced curiously up to the British woman; the two shared a small, private smile before Davies spoke.

"The point being: you've already demonstrated that you're adaptable, open minded, and empathetic. A cut above your average class of human being, if I do say so myself."

Wright rolled her eyes slowly, and shook her head. "Better watch out, girl. Lady Whiteness is just as liable to put you under a microscope, soon as she's done placing you on that pedestal."

At this Davies actually blushed a little. "Ehem. Well..."

Max worried at her bottom lip, gripped the edge of her seat and said, "Yeah. Well um...I don't feel all that adaptable at the moment. Honestly, I think I'm just too freaked out to...um." She knitted her brow. "To freak out? Does that make sense?"

"Perfectly!" Reese answered. Then raised a finger and added, "I remember when I Emerged, must have taken me a good week before I spontaneously fell to the ground, curled up in a fetal ball, with a panic attack-induced jag of hyperventilating and crying. Now I'm doing much better these days."

Wright elbowed him. "What are you talking about. You did that same thing last week!"

Rolling with the jab, he tilted his head, " _That_ was for an entirely different reason."

Max smiled to herself, just a tiny bit. At least these guys all seemed to get along. Maybe it'd be better, being the kid in the room full of adults.

 _Yeah, no weird bullshit, no cliques, no stupid namecalling, no one acting like assholes and bullies. Huh, maybe this'll work out after all._

What few sparks of optimism she felt inside quickly died out as she realized something.

"Oh...oh...oh shit! My dream! Is Arcadia Bay going to be okay? Are things getting worse now? I don't...I don't want anyone getting hurt over me. I mean God...those poor whales."

Davies reached out, and took her hand, gave it a reassuring squeeze. "Max. We've got your back now. I'm not going to feed you a line. I think a girl who's peered this far past the surface of the looking glass can handle the truth. Yes, something IS building up, no doubt related to your Emergence. It was rather strong, and given that you have at least some control over one of the most foundational forces of the universe, Reality is having far more trouble than usual adapting. But we have experience tracking this sort of thing. Dealing with it. We're almost entirely certain that if we get you out of here in the next few hours, at the very least it will minimize the extent of the changes happening in Arcadia Bay. I promise you, Homeland Security has a close eye on your hometown now. We're going to make sure nothing bad happens to it, but if something does, we'll be ready to jump in and help all your friends and family weather it out."

"I...I guess it was a really good thing you found me then, huh?"

"Well yes, there is a reason why we've spent decades looking out for people like us. Birth is always messy and painful."

Max looked down, scuffed a shoe against the floor, and murmured, "Huh. Man...wait until I tell Chloe about this. Oh! Oh shit! I was supposed to meet her at the Two Whales! Can I-I mean, can I just text her, or call her, let her know I'm going to be okay?"

The three grown-ups looked across from each other, holding one of those conversations made up almost entirely of facial expressions, knowing looks, and soft humming noises.

"Max...this is a delicate situation. The existence of Specials has always been classified as a state secret. This isn't something you can tell her, I'm afraid. Not ever. You can tell her you'll have to miss your meeting, that's about it for now."

"Okay. But about my parents? I mean, you HAVE to tell them something. I'm still a kid."

"True. And there's a specific procedure for that situation. You'll find out more about it as soon as we get to your house."

Max nodded, and pulled her phone out, thumbing away at the fold out keyboard. Wright pointedly looked over her shoulder, prompting her to reflexively shy away for a moment, before relenting with a grumble.

 **maxthemad: Che? uh. gotta bail. something came up.**

 **che-burger: oh? u alright?**

 **maxthemad: ...cramps.**

 **che-burger: aw. our little max is growing up!**

 **maxthemad: ha ha. anyhow. sorry, gotta lie down. talk later?**

 **che-burger: sure. see u tomorrow?**

Max felt a tight constriction in her belly, wending its way up to her throat over what she had to write next.

 **maxthemad: yeah. u bet. see yus.**

 **che-burger: feel better!**

She sighed; she'd never been so terse with Chloe before, but it was clear the others weren't going to be happy with her holding a ten minute texting gabfest. She then glared over at Reese. "I'm not forgiving you for that, by the way"

He looked confused for a moment, "About what?" Then quickly caught the drift. "Oh. Right. Sorry, I panicked. On the other hand, you have to admit it's the kind of excuse no one goes after with follow up questions."

Davies glances out through the small windowed partition that separated the main body of the van from the driver's cab.

"Odd. We seem to be taking a detour."

She thumbed an intercom on the side of the wall.

"Tim? I thought we were going straight away to the Caulfields?"

A couple seconds later, an answer crackled over the speaker. "Yeah uh...sorry bosslady. Director Martinet wanted a meeting with her first, before we head over."

Max gave a nervous swallow, looked first to Reese, and then to Davies. "Uh...something wrong?"

Davies frowned. "Hmmm. It's not standard protocol for the Director to get personally involved in these sorts of missions. On the other hand, Max, your Emergence is rather unprecedented." She paused, then gave her a warm, reassuring smile. "I wouldn't worry, though." She leaned in and stage whispered, "He's rather new at the job. This is probably his way of demonstrating to the leadership upstairs that he's on top of things."

"Oh? Is he - uh - he a nice guy?"

"He seems to be living up to his name, so far." Reese muttered.

Max blinked a couple of times. "Oh." She had no idea what he meant by that.

A few minutes later, the van came to a stop. The driver's voice crackled to life over the intercom.

"The Director says he wants to meet with the girl in private."

Max felt the weight in her stomach grow by another fifty pounds. Reaching out, Davies squeezed her hand with gentle, maternal affection.

"It's all right, Max. Just remember: you've done nothing wrong. You're not in trouble. This is just a recruitment. This is also the first Emergence Martinet's ever had to deal with; I'm certain he's just trying to be, how shall I say this? Proactively hands on?"

Rising from her seat, Max nodded, still not feeling all that reassured. She carefully picked her way through the van, opening the door, and hopping out. She shielded her eyes for a moment, letting them adjust to the change in light, before she quickly realized where she was: the old lighthouse, overlooking the entire sweep of the bay. She glanced about, noting all the men in black suits and extra vehicles surrounding the area, cutting off the public from easy access. Not that many people usually came up this way at all, let alone at this hour.

 _All this just because some government bigwig wants to talk to me? Gleesh!_

The only obvious approach was to the bench overlooking the view and as she made her way over, an older, balding man in a grey suit rose up from it, turning to regard her.

"Well, hello young lady. You must be Max Caulfield. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance." The way he spoke and held himself, the ill-at-ease smile screamed out that he didn't really know how to deal with teenagers. And maybe not kids in general. Still Max gave him points for trying at least, and gently shook his hand when it was offered.

"H-hello, sir."

She also figured that if this guy was going to be in charge of whatever program was recruiting her, it didn't hurt to make a good impression.

"My name is Paul Martinet. I'm the director of the central branch of the Specials Oversight and Administration Project."

She didn't mean to, it just sort of slipped out, because she finally made the connection.

"Soap? You guys are called soap?" Her face reddened when she realized too late what she'd said out loud.

He gave a forced chuckle at this. "A relic of a simpler time. While there are several sub-branches that fall under the heading, most of the organization's function is executed by the Damocles Initiative."

He motioned to the bench, "Have a seat, please. I just wanted to take a few minutes to talk to you. Prepare you for some of the remarkable changes that are going to happen in your life."

She sat down as requested, and gazed over the town she'd called home for the past thirteen years. It had never seemer as pretty and as inviting as it did this moment.

 _Now that I'm being rushed out..._

Still, she could see there were things askew; the whale carcases were easy to spot. But there were other things too. She couldn't quite put her finger on it, but as she narrowed her eyes, focused her attention, she could feel a kind of...wrongness. Not bad or evil, more like...a windowpane that had been smashed. And all the pieces were mostly fitting back together, but not quite.

"Max?", Martinet called out.

"S-sorry. I just...still adjusting to it all. Haven't been up here in a few weeks. Chloe and me, we like to ride our bikes up here, and just pretend that..."

She stopped herself short, and glanced over to Martinet. "Never mind."

He nodded once. "I realize this is a lot to take in. Your understanding of the world, and your place in it has been radically altered, in ways you haven't even had a chance to fully process yet. I'm here, Max, because your Emergence is rather startling. Unprecedented, from what I'm led to believe. Did Agent Davies and the others explain to you the importance of bringing you into our custody as soon as possible?"

Max stiffened. The phrase "into custody immediately set alarm bells off in her brain.

"She-she didn't tell me all the science stuff behind it. Just that the way I got my powers started making weird things happen around town. Like the snow flurry, and then the-the whales." She pointed out a finger. "I can see other things too. Like the birds. I can't say how, but I just know they're flying around in weird patterns, like they're really confused about something. And she said that if I got out of town, it would probably stop worse things from happening. Things like..."

She gasped, as recognition hit her. "Oh shit."

"Max?"

"I-I had a dream, the day I went back in time and saved Chloe's dad. A nightmare. I remember now, I was actually here, on this spot, watching a giant tornado destroy the entire town."

He tried to rest a reassuring hand on her shoulder. Max couldn't help but notice that he wasn't comfortable with the gesture, not the way the others were.

"I promise you, Max; we're here to help. We're going to do everything in our power to prevent this from happening, or mitigate the worst of it, if something does come about. But you're right; the sooner we get you away from here, the less likely it is this dream - perhaps a vision of the future? - will come to pass."

"Thank you." she breathed out. "Not really happy, having to leave home like this, but I can't let anything bad happen to Arcadia Bay."

"I'm glad you understand what's at stake, Max. That's why I brought you here. I could try to explain how important you and your abilities could be...to us. To your country, and ultimately, to the world. But I know how it is with most people. A country is just words and pictures in a book. But home is..." At this, Martinet spread out his arm towards the bay. "At the end of the day, this is what it's all about. Keeping your home safe."

Max nodded slowly.

"But Max...I'm afraid we also need to briefly discuss more serious issues." He shifted slightly, turning his head back to fix his gaze directly upon her. "You're young. Younger than anyone like you we've ever discovered. And to be blunt, based on what we know so far, you're potentially quite powerful. Until we truly understand the full extent of your powers, how they can be developed, what possible threat they may hold to the world, and to yourself. Ah..." The Director was clearly trying to find a way to sugar coat what was coming next.

"I'm afraid we're going to have to significantly restrict your comings and goings, at least in the beginning. In ways that you might consider excessive. Now understand, this is as much for your protection as everyone else's. There are others out there, hostile governments, terrorist organizations, anarchists; all of them would move heaven and hell to get a hold of you, if they ever discovered your existence."

The dread went from just creeping to full on boiling in her stomach, threatening to rise up and choke her.

"Th-that seems really crazy...I mean. It's just a few minutes back in time. I don't feel THAT powerful...I can't be..." She was determined not to burst out in tears in front of this man, but her head was spinning. Her voice broke, just a little, as she asked. "Are you - am I going to be a prisoner?"

Martinet smiled, or tried to. Max couldn't help but think that it lacked the sort of comfort or warmth that Reese or Davies had put into their own gestures, but maybe that was because this was the guy making her out to be the most dangerous girl in the world!

"Prisoner? That's too strong a term for it. Protective custody I think best describes the situation. Again Max, please believe me: these are just temporary measures. Once we assess the full measure of your abilities, where they'll go, and the situation has cooled down, I'm certain the need for these strictures will be greatly diminished."

Staring out numbly into the sea, she whispered out, "Oh. O-okay."

 _It's...it's going to be okay. Of course they're scared, you went back in time and changed the past! Just...just show them there's nothing to be afraid of, that you're not a threat, and everything will be fine. Calm down Max. This is just...this isn't how it's always going to be._

 _Right?_

"But-but my parents! And my friends, and school and everyone..."

He held up a hand to stop her. "We're already crafting a cover story: You've received a fully paid scholarship to a prestigious school for gifted children: The Zion Academy. Your parents have decided to send you as soon as possible, in order to have you catch up on missed work. Though you'll not be able to communicate with your friends at first, in due time, I'm sure letters can be sent. After careful screening of course. Your access to the Internet and social media will have to be curtailed for the time being, but if anyone is curious, they'll eventually figure that you've got your head buried in your books."

Again, Max could only nod, staring straight ahead. A growing sense of detachment started to overtake her.

 _Maybe THIS is the dream. Maybe THIS is where I wake up._

"Gonna be tough on my folks, having to keep this secret too." she remarked, with a nervous laugh.

Martinet said nothing at first. The way he refused to look her in the eye for a good ten seconds told her everything she needed to know about what was coming next.

"We're going to have to keep your parents in the dark as well, Max. For the purposes of national security. One small misstep, one careless word, and they could put themselves in as much danger as you. I'm afraid that extraordinary measures will need to be taken."

Max felt the blood drain her face. She as a smart girl. She didn't have to ask the question, how they would pull that off. She met Reese. Seen what he could do to people.

The tears finally fell again.

"My parents..." she moaned, in a tiny, plaintive voice. "P-please. Don't hurt them. Okay? Not over this."

"Max! Certainly, we wouldn't...we're not monsters! Nothing we'd do would be harmful. Just remember, we're the good guys. But sometimes that means making hard sacrifices, tough, terrible-seeming choices. Powers like yours come with tremendous responsibilities. I'm sorry that you've been pulled into this at such a young age. It's not fair, but we'll get you through this difficult transition."

 _Please wake up. Please wake UP!_

She wiped her eyes, and could barely move her head to give one final nod.

"Now that we've got that settled, there's no point in delaying things any further. I'm glad we had this talk; I'm sure we'll have more in the days to come. Welcome to the Damocles Initiative, Max. Go ahead and get back into the van you came in. Could you please do me a favor and send Agent Reese out to talk to me?"

"Right. Sure." she said, in a flat tone of voice.

She was at least able to pride herself in waiting until the van drove out of sight before bursting completely into tears.

* * *

A minute later, Reese walked up, holding up a hand towards the other man.

"You wanted to see me, Director?"

Martinet reached into his jacket pocket, pulling out a sheaf of papers, and handing them over for Reese to peruse.

"What's this?"

"Max's cover story. Along with your orders on how to proceed with the implantation protocol for her parents."

Reese blanched, and snagged the docket, perhaps more brusquely than intended, scanning it incredulously. "Whoa. Wait. What? Hold on, hold on, with all due respect, sir. I know she's young, but we've already got a protocol in place for handling legal minors; we've always had the parents or guardians sign the appropriate state secret NDA's..."

"Are you questioning your orders, Agent?"

"I...well. It's just they've always been enough in the past, and..."

Martinet interrupted again, "You'll note a fully authorized Constitutionality Waiver has been attached. Secretary Chertoff hasn't officially countersigned it yet, but I have complete confidence that we'll have that in another hour or two."

"Sir, I understand this is Omega-Green, and the Wayden Amendment, and everything. I can even understand altering Max's parent's memories, but that's a huge change. Occam's razor is a funny thing, the bigger the whopper, the more the mind has trouble accepting the new memories on a long term basis. They're going to start asking questions much sooner than later."

"And you'll note that the protocol authorizes you to perform periodic maintenance and reinforcement of the appropriate memories, as required."

Reese swallowed, licked his lips, and started to shake his head. "Sir. Director, you've read my file, you must have. You _must_ know how my powers work. The risks in what you're asking. This is..." he skimmed through the papers to double check, "...is a full five year plan. I mean...Christ, two, three years, their brains could be swiss cheese. At least where Max is concerned. Maybe well beyond that."

"But their lives won't be in any actual danger?"

"Well...well no. I mean, probably not, not their actual health, but..."

"Then let me ask you again: are you refusing a direct order, Agent Reese?"

Turning his head again, wincing as if he was swallowing something particularly nasty, he answered through gritted teeth. "No. I suppose it'll be safe enough to start. But sir, I think you should know: I fully intend to file a complaint. I think this course of action is exceptionally risky. Not to mention the long term legal ramifications, as well as the ethics of deploying me against civilians.

"It wouldn't be the first time."

Trying not to sputter, Reese answered, "Well-bu-yeah-ah-that. That was for government scientists trying to sell out state secrets to the highest bidder, or people who were clear and present dangers to the United States! Not...not parents of some thirteen year old girl! Not American citizens who haven't committed any crime!"

"Agent, I need you to understand: we may be looking at the most dangerous development in global stability since the start of the Cold War. Certainly, I don't want to hurt them, but if the Caulfields end up as unfortunate casualties in keeping this situation locked down and secured...as regrettable as that would be, the cost would be acceptable. I don't need you to agree with that, you're not sitting at the top, making the big decisions. I simply need you to carry out orders."

With that, Martinet stood and walked past him, silently declaring the conversation over.

* * *

Max stared numbly out, clutching the duffle bag filled with her clothes, books, and a small handful of personal items as if it were her entire world. Davies sat quietly next to her on the van, as they drove off into the night.

Two hours. That's all the time she had at her house. Two crazy, chaotic hours, where Martinet and Davies and Reese did their best to explain to situation to her parents. It started off easy enough; her parents barely understood what was going on. It was difficult for Max to casually demonstrate what she could do, and were it not for the presence of multiple secret government agents in their living room, her Mom and Dad would probably have called it all clever trickery.

She was sent off to her room, to pack, or at least be out of obvious earshot for what was coming. Raised voices, legal threats, the occasional pleading. Vanessa and Ryan Caulfield were not about to give up their only daughter to total strangers, not without a fight. Max kept trying to tell herself that this was for everyone's safety, their protection. That powers like hers came with responsibility, just like everyone had been telling her to believe, all day.

But all she knew in her heart of hearts is that she didn't want this. She didn't want to leave Arcadia Bay. And as initially cool and exciting as it seemed to leave school, and have powers, and maybe go off and help people, the reality of it?

It was horrible!

She just wanted it to be over. Take it all back, make it the way that it was before.

Except...

...except 'the way it was before' meant letting William die. Stripping Chloe's father's away from her. And there was no way she could do that, even if it meant being taken away from her own mom and dad.

Still, she was tempted. She hated that she was tempted. She hated more that she actually gave into that temptation, tried to rewind back as soon as she stepped out of the van, see if she could give herself five minutes to warn her parents something terrible was coming, and then run away. To keep running and keep rewinding...

But her powers still weren't working. She'd started suspecting that there was more to it than just anxiety. That she'd been drugged with something somehow, or the agents some kind of device 'jamming' her time rewinding.

As she grabbed fistfuls of clothes and shoved them into the military duffle she'd been provided, she still wondered if she could run off to Chloe's house, find the picture from before, somehow jump back into the past, and undo it all. Whether that would cancel everything out.

Plotted how to get away with it.

 _Maybe...maybe that's what I'm supposed to do?_

She had to say goodbye, at least. Tell Chloe she was leaving. They left her with her cell phone, but that was going to be taken away from her as soon as she left the house; Wright made sure to tell her that much, personally.

Maybe she could send out an SOS. 'Chloe! Get help!'.

Yeah. Get help. From where? The government? What kind of friend would she be, if she put Chloe's life in danger? Would they do to her what they were going to do to her parents?

 **maxthemad: chloe?**

 **che-burger: hey maxi pad! hows the flow?**

 **maxthemad: ha. um. i just want you to know...im leaving arcadia bay.**

 **che-burger: lol! feeling that crampy huh?**

 **maxmad: chloe**

 **maxmad: im serious. deadly.**

 **che-burger: WTF? the hell?! whats happening?!**

 **maxthemad: i guess my parents are sending me to this new school in Seattle. full scholarship, so they didn't say no. but they have to send me off tonight, so I can catch up and stuff, with all the other kids there. you know, classes and junk. found out as soon as i walked thru the door.**

 **che-burger: wait. wait! okay, swear this isn't some stupid joke!**

 **maxthemad: chloe...I swear.**

 **che-burger: do you want to go? because you so sound like you dont, for cereal!**

 **maxthemad: it means a lot to them chloe. i want to make them happy. and its a really good school.**

 **che-burger: but we were going to go to blackwell together! cant I at least see you or call you before you leave? u cant just leave like this! i'm your best fucking friend, max!**

The voices downstairs grew in pitch and anger. There was a crash, like something breaking, and Max turned to her closed bedroom door, shuddering in fear.

Then all was quiet.

 **maxthemad: i gotta go. My folks are packing up the car and calling me now.**

 **maxthemad: i'm so sorry!**

 **che-burger: max?**

 **che-burger: MAX?!**

 **che-burger: what the fuck!? call me! call me please!**

She squeezed a few tears from her eyes, closed up the phone, then ran downstairs, packed bag in hand; not even thinking to take one last look around her room, or any of the other favorite things or places she might never see again, or at least not see for a long while.

She didn't even get the pat the dog goodbye.

Max glanced over to the knot of people gathered in the center of the living room. Her mother and father, smiling so brightly. Reese's hands on their shoulders, a sad, guilty expression on his face as he regarded her.

Her mom was the first to speak.

"Max! We're so proud of you. So proud!"

Her father's smile was so wide.

"Way to go, kiddo! I know it probably seems scary, going off to a boarding school, but this place sounds top notch. Your mother and I know you're going to do great things there!"

Martinet turned slightly, glancing over at her direction.

"Max? Why don't you say goodbye to your parents. I'm afraid we're on a tight schedule here."

She drifted over, trying her best to keep a brave smile on her face, tears out of her eyes. It felt like being in the worst sort of horror movie. Arrayed against an enemy so powerful, so terrible, even her parents couldn't protect her from it.

An enemy she herself brought down upon them.

She held them each so tightly. Thought about begging them to not let her go. That she changed her mind, wanted to stay home. Maybe if she made things too difficult for Martinet and the others to maintain the cover story, they'd just leave and never come back. Leave her alone forever.

But she didn't resist. She might've only been thirteen, but she was smart enough to know the alternative was far, far worse than what she was enduring right now.

 _It's only for a little while. Once they see I'm not at threat, not a problem, it'll be alright!_

She had to make herself believe that; anything else was too difficult to accept.

Still, she couldn't let herself go without a little show of resistance. When it came time to hand over her cellphone in the van, Wright held out her hand expectantly. Max quickly keyed in the factory reset code, and then plopped it into the outstretched palm.

 _Good luck going through my private texts now!_

Max knew it was a futile, even childish gesture. But she couldn't help but demonstrate at least some token of dissent. That she was far from fucking happy with this arrangement.

They drove the entire six hours from Arcadia Bay to Seattle. Max didn't say a word, except to occasionally grunt, or nod, say yes, or no. Yes, she was fine. No, she wasn't hungry. No, she didn't need to use the bathroom. No, she still didn't need to use the bathroom. Okay, now she needed to use the bathroom. Fine, she'll eat your stupid french fries if it means so much to you!

It barely registered in her brain, when Davies reassured her that the readings she was getting from the sensor team left behind in Arcadia Bay were already reporting a measurable drop in the 'chaos field index', whatever that was supposed to be. Just that it made the chances of a tornado coming down and destroying everything a lot less likely, now.

 _You're a hero now, Max. You just saved everyone in Arcadia Bay._

 _From yourself._

* * *

 _ **A/** **N:**_ Well, it's nine minutes past midnight, so that means Happy Swan Saturday!

My many thanks as always to the ever-lovely **Corentin IV** for her insightful editorial advice and polish.

O.M.G. Guys, I just wrote the CUTEST flashback scene last night where Max and Chloe meet as little kids. I'm sad I probably won't publish the chapter that's a part of until the end of September-beginning of October. Next week starts a five chapter arc going over the next five years for Max and Chloe.

I'd tell you everything works out great, but then it'd be a real short story, wouldn't it?

Have a great rest of the weekend, kids!


	6. A Year In This New Life

Max drifted in and out of a twilight daze during the last hour of the trip. Even the bright lights of downtown Seattle failed to rouse her attention. Just before she could pass completely into sleep, she was jerked awake by a loud *cthunk!*

The van, though perfectly still, was now somehow sinking down. At a pretty decent rate of speed, judging by the popping in her ears. There was a rumbling surrounding her, as if she were in or on some giant elevator.

"Wha-what's going on?" she murmured sleepily.

Davies put down the book she was reading, and smiled reassuringly.

"Nothing to worry about. We're just riding down the inclinator. Zion Control itself is a surprising distance below ground. Something of a miniature city, really. The entire compound is a repurposed Cold War bomb shelter. Back in the days when people still worried about that sort of thing.

Max rubbed her eyes. "Seems kind of weird you'd have a base in the middle of a city. Aren't there a lot of mountains nearby? Wouldn't that work better?"

"Normally, yes" Davies gave a wry, soft smile, and said nothing more.

It took a good ten minutes for the platform to finish its descent; the van's engine turned over, and it drove on another five minutes before finally arriving at a large underground loading dock.

There was a contingent of armed guards waiting for them. Max eyed them warily as she stepped out of the van, unsure as to what she should do. Davies stepped in front of her, staring them down.

"For God's sake, is this absolutely necessary? She's a thirteen year old girl, not a hydrogen bomb or an Al-Qaeda terrorist!"

The guards parted as a young Latina woman stepped forward. Slight of frame, not much more than whipcord muscle wrapped around bone, her hair was pixie-cut, auburn with frosted blonde and red tips. She was short though; Max guessed she was about Chloe's height, so taller than herself, but not by much. She was dressed in a field uniform similar to what Davies wore.

"Rodriguez...?" Davies inquired, in a half warning, half curious tone.

The other woman shrugged good-naturedly. "Sorry, boss. When Martinet says jump, we gotta ask for the height, as well as the arc trajectory. At least, starting out, we do..." She looked down at Max, and then smiled sadly. "Ai-yie-yie. They actually brought us a kid." She leaned in a touch, and held out her hand. "I'm Alanna. Welcome to Hall of Justice, _chica_."

Max just stared, sleepy and dazed. She didn't think to take the offered hand until she felt Davies' gentle prodding against the small of her back.

"If you say so." Max murmured. "I'm Max. So. Um...what's your power?"

Alanna smiled warmly, and then straightened back up. "I love how that's the first thing you asked." With that, she closed her eyes, took a slow, steady inhalation, and then began to lazily roll her fist around above her head. With a sizzling snap, a lasso composed of intense red flamed instantly materialized. She smirked and then walked over, widening the band of fire, until it was revolving around the three of them. Opening her eyes at last, and with a sleepy tilt of her head, she murmured. "Why don't you boys go back and get some rack time, yeah? I think I can take it from here."

"Ma'am?" one of the soldiers started, unsure.

"Ya heard me. Albertson's out for the night, so that puts me in charge of base security. Don't know about you, but I'm beat, so let's get our newest recruit bunked and then we can all turn in. If Martinet asks, I'll tell him everyone here gets a gold star for the night."

Slinging their rifles across their backs, the guards turned and headed away from them. Max couldn't help but shrink a bit, breathing out a soft sigh of relief. Rodriguez glanced down at her, tossed out a sly wink.

"Gotta cut them some slack. Just doing their jobs. You know how it is around here? They're always gonna crack the whip on you."

She followed this up by banishing her flaming lasso, only to recall it for a few seconds in the form of a yellow-hued bullwhip that sliced through the air with a sharp snap.

Max hugged her duffle bag tight against her. There faintest hint of a smile started to break through.

 _At...at least some people are nice here. Might not be so bad. Right?_

She was silent, barely taking note of her surroundings as Rodriguez and Davies both pointed out various areas of the complex during their walk towards the living quarters. Everything was gunmetal blues and utilitarian greys with the only real color coming from the glowing, flat panel displays built into the walls; kind of like that Star Trek show from about four years earlier.

Ten minutes later, she was sitting on the corner of the bed in what was to be her room. Her own private accommodations at least, spartan though it may be. With a small wooden desk and a built in computer terminal, bed, drawers and shower/bathroom stall, it was about the size of a cheap hotel room. Not much bigger than her bedroom back home, really.

She let her duffle slip from her arms at last, falling to the ground, and asked, barely above a whisper. "Is it okay if I just wait until tomorrow to unpack?"

Davies nodded. "Of course, dear. Don't worry, I'll make sure they give you at least a few days to acclimate before they start in with the poking and prodding." She bit her lip, and added, "Do give them time, won't you? Once we come to understand you, what you're fully capable of, this whole barmy air of paranoia will meet a sudden end. I'm sure of it."

Max simply stretched out across her bed, and nodded. "Uh-huh." She belatedly look over to Rodriguez and said, "Nice meeting you."

The younger woman gave her a casual fingertip salute and nodded. "Yup! I'll come and pick you up for breakfast in the morning"

Davies reached out, pointing in the direction of the desk.. "Max, if anything, and I do mean anything happens, if you need to get in touch with me, you just push that button. The red one."

Max nodded once, breathing out a single soft "Thanks."

With that, they left her on her own.

She didn't even try the door; it was an automated device; again, kind of like the ones on Star Trek. But she swore she heard it latch as it slid behind the other women. It struck her as sort of funny. Where else was she going to go?

She managed to turn the lights off, and stared out into darkness for a while. As sleep finally claimed her again, she couldn't help but wonder if there was still a chance she might wake up, back in her own bed, all of this some terrible nightmare.

* * *

Over coffee, Davies and Rodriguez chatted.

"Huh. Time manipulation. Was that for real then?"

"So it would appear. There'll be any number of tests to conduct but the initial readings seem to confirm it."

Rodriguez shook her head. "Damn. Tough break. Too bad she wasn't born when you were, back before the entire world went fucking _loco_."

"I'm not sure that would have made much of a difference. Besides, it _will_ get better. You'll see, Alanna. Martinet is just being overcautious. Once he realizes he doesn't have to be so zealous, once he's gotten comfortable with Max and sees she's not a threat, he'll dampen it back."

"Sweetie, I know you're incredibly smart. You'd have to be, to be able to fool yourself like that. Anyhow, hasta..."

Davies retired to her office for lack of anything better to do. She wouldn't actually need to sleep for another day or so, and there was always paperwork waiting to be done. That at least might take her mind off the day's events, if just for a brief while.

* * *

The next few days passed by in a blur. Max was made to sit through any number of cheesy orientation videos and instructed to fill out packets and reams of documentation. Health forms, benefits elections, pension contribution amounts; apparently, she was actually getting paid, although most of her salary was being held in trust until she came of age.

 _I guess they figure it feels less like jail if they actually give me money._

Then the were the medical exams, with the endless poking, prodding, and scanning. Vials of blood and other bodily fluids procured. Locked up for an hour in this noisy machine, or that claustrophobic chamber. Some of it seemed so stupid and redundant. Like what the hell was an ultrasound was going to tell them that an MRI didn't?

Then there were all the super embarrassing questions about her medical history, asking if she was a virgin ("Dude! I'm only thirteen!"), if she ever did drugs ("No, are you offering?"), what ran in her family ("My Dad has his appendix out...I think?"). The entire process was clearly intended for an older person, and obviously no one had the flexibility to change it around to be more appropriate for someone her age.

For the first week, they left her largely alone, once all the stupid orientation and medical stuff was out of the way. Let her read, watch some old movies. Davies did her best to check on her, despite clearly being a busy woman, but Rodriguez visited all the time, trying to cheer her up with little tricks, and doing her best to talk to her like a normal human being.

Reese stopped a few times, and made uncomfortable conversation. Max wanted to tell him that she didn't blame him for what happened to her parents. She figured he had orders, and it was plain to see he disliked doing what he did. But the truth was that she _was_ still kind of angry at him. It'd pass through. Reese seemed genuinely nice, and she could use every friend she could get.

Nicole, for instance, avoided her like the plague. Like the fact she existed creeped the other woman out or something.

Everyone else? They weren't sure what to do with her. Treat her like a test subject? Or a security threat? They just didn't know how to relate to a thirteen year old girl. Especially not one they were worried would wipe them out of existence - yeah, she overheard all the rumors and whispering - if she got angry.

She wrote a few letters, handed them over to be sent out. She desperately wished she'd get some responses soon. Reminders that there was a real world out there, half a mile above her head. Someplace she'd be able to see again. Maybe someday soon.

A week into her stay, she received a short internal email that she was to start her training. After breakfast, she was to report to room 1015.

At least they stopped having armed guards tail her all the time.

As she stepped into the office, she glanced around. The room itself was almost empty, clearly some sort of general purpose or storage room, except for a single school desk which...was actually kind of cool. It looked like something from a sci-fi movie, with a comfortable padded chair, a built-in touchscreen computer, and a few shelves for books and supplies.

Davies was there, sitting on top of a teacher's desk, legs crossed, all prim and proper as she sipped her tea.

"Well, Cadet. Welcome to your first day of comprehensive training. We've got a lot to go over, so let's get a brisk start, shall we?" She slid off the desk, onto her feet.

Max sat down at her desk. "Y-you're gonna be my teacher?"

Davies smirked, giving a slight tilt of her head, "That's not a problem, is it, Max?"

Max shook her head. "N-no. Just. Surprised, I guess? It sounds like you're super-busy running a bunch of stuff. I guess I'm...I'm happy, actually, that it's you. Not some stranger." She smiled softly, not meaning to, but that made it no less genuine.

"I've had to arrange my schedule to accommodate you, but I got them to see my point; I'm the best suited to oversee your rather unique educational requirements. Granted, there'll be times when we'll have to meet in the middle of the night, or via video link. But as I require no more than a scant handful of hours of sleep per week, and you only have a few commitments at present, it's not as if we absolutely _must_ keep to a set schedule."

"Huh. I guess so. Um...so what are we studying then?"

Davies brightened considerably, like an enthusiastic artist who couldn't wait to show off her latest creation. "So glad you asked! Aside from continuing your general education - and by the way, I believe I've really outdone myself on providing a world class curriculum based on your impressive achievement test results - you'll be going through basic field agent training. Spread out over a longer period of time, given your age."

"Oh. You...um...made it sound like I didn't have to do that part. I mean, if I didn't want to. The field agent stuff."

"Yes. Well. I certainly hope that after some time, we might be able to move you onto a different track if you so desire. R&D, for instance. I mean, you'll be doing some of that anyhow, while you're here."

 _Yeah. Yeah, I'll bet. Yay, Max the lab rat._

Davies continued. "If it makes you feel any better, you're going to get self-defense and firearms training. A child your age, I would think that'd be positively delightful, yes?"

Max closed her eyes for a few moments, bowed her head.

 _Okay, Max. You need to make the best of this. Moping around isn't gonna make it any easier, right? If they're talking about teaching you this kind of stuff, it means they're gonna let you out eventually. Let you go and run missions, and stuff. And then when they see how many lives you can save, and how many people you help, they'll stop treating you like...like...well anyhow, they might even apologize. Wouldn't that be cool?_

Lifting her head back up and opening her eyes, she answered in a much brighter, more positive tone than she'd used in the past few days. "Yyyeeeeah. I guess? I mean, sure! That'll be cool. How many thirteen year olds get to learn how to shoot a gun for credit?"

"That's the spirit. Alright then. For this morning, we'll begin with your physics lessons. Go ahead and turn on your desk computer, and open up the curriculum file on the home screen. Let's start with the basics of quantum phenomena..."

* * *

 **December 2008**

"Right then, Max. If you could just stick out your arm for me, let's see if I've gotten the measurements correct."

Max did as instructed. Davies secured the strange looking bracelet on to her wrist. It was shiny, and black, and felt a lot lighter than it looked. But it fit her perfectly, not uncomfortable in the slightest. There was a smoother, plastic part on top, that lit up as soon as she grazed her fingers over it.

"What the heck is this thing?"

She glanced down at the display.

 **SUBJECTIVE LOCAL TIME: 8:03 (UTC-8) 12-2-2009  
** **SUBJECTIVE AGE: 13 Y - 71 D - 8H - 32M - 3S  
** **OBJECTIVE AGE: 13 Y - 71 D - 9H - 10M - 4S**

Frowning slightly, she asked. "It's a watch? I mean, don't think I'm ungrateful, it's the coolest watch I've ever seen! Just not sure what's the point. Also: subjective age? Objective age? I don't get it."

Davies smiled softly, "I call it a lifeclock. It's a fairly simple device. There's a tiny atomic clock, along with a passive receiver that figures out what your local time is based on the UTC data built into the standard GPS signal. The screen itself is merely an active matrix OLED display; the military has had it for a while, but it's just started showing up in the civilian market. The battery inside should last a good fifteen or so years between chargings, and yes, there are entire nations that would kill to figure out how I pulled that trick off. As long as you keep this device on your person, it will continuously calculate the increasing discontinuity between your actual physical age, and your age as legally recorded."

Max continued poking away at the watch on her wrist. "I-I'm sorry. I still don't understand why I need something like this. Is it a tracking device?"

"No, no. It doesn't have any active tracking gear built into it. But let me see if I can explain it more succinctly: whenever you wind time backwards, all our testing thus far indicates that your body doesn't come along for the ride. You still consume calories, your cells continue to divide, you'll eventually need sleep sooner on in the day. YOU always keep moving forward This is what is meant by objective time. Your body will always age, no matter how far back you may someday be able to rewind. I don't understand why, but at least to some extent, you have become partially decoupled from the normal boundaries and mechanics of the fabric of space-time.

"Wait. Whoa, wait a second." Max interjected, as realization dawned on her face. "You're saying that every time I rewind, I'm...like shorting my life? Compared to everyone else?"

Davies took a breath, and then nodded. "I'm afraid so. I've done my best to take into account the amount of discontinuity you've already created for yourself since your Emergence, but I'm afraid I wasn't able to calculate it with any great degree of precision. Still, better the metric we have now, than nothing at all. In the end, it's vitally important we make sure that all of us are aware of the cost, whenever you use your power."

Max's mind swam as everything began to hit home for her.

"Oh damn! So according to this thing, I'm almost an hour older than I should be?"

Davies only nodded.

"Oh, shut up! That is...that's really..."

Max stared hard at the device - well, she might as well get used to calling it a lifeclock - around her wrist. She wasn't sure how she felt about the fact that she was killing herself, literally hastening her death by degrees, whenever she rewound. Actually, that wasn't true, she knew exactly how that felt:

 _Creepy. Creepy and scary and..._

She was young, and death seemed like a long, long ways off, but being told she already stole an hour off her life really? That really disturbed her.

With a hint of agitation in her voice, Max asked, "How can I, I mean. You can fix this, right? You can make it better?"

Davies gave her a soft, comforting pat on the hand. "Oh Max. I'm afraid it's not a matter of fixing. It's a cost. Something you're going to have to learn to live with. It will encourage both you _and_ DI to make careful choices about appropriately using your ability." She paused in thought. "Althouuuugh. I suppose if you were somehow able to send yourself forward in time without aging, then yes; it would be an extremely simple and effective way to balance the equation, so to speak. Have you ever tried expanding time forward?"

She shook her head. "I never even thought to." Max then tried to put on a brave face. "I - ah - I guess it's like the comic books right? Great power, great responsibility? Also, it's still a really cool watch! Anyhow, thank you, Camilla. I appreciate it. I could have gone crazy with my ability and never known I was taking time away from myself." She shook her head and then smiled. "You made this too, huh? You must be smart! Like...Einstein and Hawkings and..and that guy from Nova Science Now! Neil deGrasse Tyson? Like him!"

Davies smirked. "I'll be sure to let him know you're a fan, the next time I speak with him." Max gawked for a moment at that, as the other woman continued, "Anyhow, as time goes on, I'll no doubt need to take your lifeclock back to make further refinements and adjustments. But you're good for the moment. Now that we've got this out of the way, let's start your lessons for today."

* * *

 **March 2009**

A few months had passed since Max arrived at Zion, and over that time, her life settled into a new type of normal. To be fair, some things were getting easier: they'd stopped outright locking her up in her room every night, and she had relatively free access to the base. Within reason, of course. A lot of doors were still barred to her, but she couldn't imagine that what was behind them was any less boring than the rest of the base seemed to be.

There was a rhythm similar to life before her Emergence: school, homework, physical education. She got a day or two off a week but where was she going to spend her time? She did her best to make her own fun. Reese bought a couple of Segways out of his own money, and they'd go on races, or do jousting. Rodriguez - who could be totally girly as hell - was teaching her the finer points of makeup and beauty, ignoring her whenever she pointed out that the potential dating pool in her life right now was exactly zero.

She'd been allowed to have one day trip to Seattle, under heavy-duty chaperoning. Beyond that, she didn't have anywhere to go, and not an awful lot to do, except study and train. She didn't have friends to hang out with, at least not ones her age. Sure, Reese and Rodriguez and Davies, they were all friendly enough. Chen over in monitoring seemed like a nice guy too. But they were adults who were friendly to her, not friends per se. She didn't have anyone she could confide in, hang out with, ride bikes or gossip with.

She didn't have Chloe.

In some ways, she missed her more than her own parents.

At least she knew Chloe was safe. Safe from her, safe from the ones keeping her 'secure'. She couldn't say that much for her mom and dad.

Still, Max held on to hope. She hadn't destroyed the world - not once! - during the last five months. Sooner or later, they had to see she wasn't so dangerous.

Right?

At least the one-on-one education was good. Sorta awesome, actually. Davies was a great teacher: kind, understanding. Patient certainly. When Max was stuck with her homework, Davies had this intuitive way of figuring out exactly where the problem was, and how best to describe it, so she could get past her difficulties grasping the material. She was able to adjust the flow of instruction, to be as fast or as slow as required. Max, though relatively modest, always knew she was a bright student. Maybe even gifted. She quickly understood why she found junior high so boring, taught as it was to the lowest common denominator, and appreciated the ways that she was being challenged here. Most importantly, she didn't feel like she was being indoctrinated, which really surprised her.

Eventually, there would be more in-depth spy stuff added to the mix. Already they were teaching her martial arts, and they even let her fire a gun on the range a couple of times! Also, there was psychology, like understanding how people think, and how to exploit that.

Then there were these, well, sort of special lessons. Ones designed to make her think about time, and her powers, and how they might develop. What she might do with them. Ways of thinking 'outside the box', and she could already pull some super awesome tricks with her power. But they also went over things maybe she SHOULDN'T be doing with them.

Like this week, for example. Davies was having her watch a bunch of movies, all with a common theme: _Time Bandits_ , _The Time Machine_ , some episodes of _Star Trek_ , _The Sound of Thunder_. _Somewhere In Time_. _The Philadelphia Experiment_.

They had just finished watching _The Butterfly Effect_.

"Well, as a cinematic production, that positively awful." Davies said with a smirk, as she turned to Max. "But perhaps it's given you a lot to think about?"

She nodded, because, well...it actually had.

"Yeah, that was sooo creepy. All the bad things that happen to Evan and people around him. I mean, it was like time itself kept wanting to punish him for what he was trying to do. Which was make people happy. Give everyone a better life. But at the same time, it turned into an obsession for him. It reminds me of the speech that the villain makes in that Year of Hell episode you showed me on Monday. From _Voyager_?"

Davies nodded. "That's a good link to pick up on. The human collective psyche has a strong desire to personify Nature. Or more to the point, natural forces that we feel powerless against. Especially time, because where does time ultimately lead each and every one of us to in the end, except death? Not to mention, the vast, unknowable complexities of causality. It's intriguing where fear of the unknown leads people."

"Yeah, no kidding. At the same time, you ever wonder if maybe Time is like a - I don't know - like something intelligent? I mean, I don't know if I believe in God and stuff, but when I got my power, it really fucked up things. People didn't die, not that I knew of, but animals did. The birds and the whales. And it could have been a LOT worse. How do you explain that?"

Fortunately, the tornado of her nightmares never came to pass. Instead, on that Friday, Arcadia Bay was visited by a sudden squall that drenched the town and brought down one or two trees. Beyond that, there were no casualties.

Davies tapped at her lips, before speaking, "It's true, we don't understand the exact reasons why the fabric of reality reacts the way it does when people Emerge. But one might as well ask why does Emergence happen at all? You can't say that it's 'unnatural', because it happens within the machinery of the universe itself."

Max countered, "Yeah, but Nature has split atoms all by itself. I remember in school, they were talking about this place in Africa where a bunch of uranium naturally formed, and it turned it into this kind of nuclear reactor. If splitting the atom was what caused Specials to happen, why didn't we have them a lot sooner?

Davies sat back down on her desk, picked up a plate of turkish delight, and held it out offeringly to her. "If an atom is split in the wilds of Africa, and Man is not around to see it, was it truly split?"

Picking up one of the treats, Max popped it in her mouth and asked, "Uhhhh...are you saying that if _we_ don't witness these things, they don't have an effect on reality? I mean, kind of like what you've been teaching me about quantum mechanics, Heisenberg, and Schrodinger and stuff?"

"That's an excellent way of putting things, yes. Another way is: when we drop a pebble in a lake, it produces ripples that spread out. We've disrupted an otherwise stable system by introducing an outside element. Eventually, things smooth out, but if the water strider on the surface was capable of complex thought, how might it interpreted what just occurred? Perhaps we are, for whatever reason, one of the few, if not only actors in reality to drop the pebble, so to speak." Davies paused, then rose up. "On the other hand ,Max, just because something might be 'natural', may be allowed within the rules of reality and the Universe, that doesn't mean it's something we should be doing. We can create terrible poisons and diseases, bombs that can level entire cities, computer code that can cause airplanes to fall from the sky. But should we? And by that fashion, you can potentially go back and change time, but should you always?"

"Well, the movies you've shown me make it sound like the answer is no. That Time is going to punish you if you try to mess with it. But...but I did it! I helped Chloe. I saved her Dad. And nothing bad happened! Nothing..."

She slumped at her desk. Looking around at where she was.

 _Yeah. Nothing bad at all._

Davies helped herself to a piece of candy before putting the plate back. "Nothing that you _know_ of. You've changed the world, in ways even *I* can't begin to calculate. Changed the course of a million, billion variables. I'm not going to say that William Price was MEANT to die. We can't know that. But you have no idea, absolutely none, all the future consequences that will result from your act. I know it might sound unbelievable, but as wonderful as it was to keep your friend's father alive, it might set into course a series of events that make life for the both of them much more difficult."

Max was incredulous. "What? How? How could that POSSIBLY happen? William dying was terrible! It made Chloe so sad. How could letting that continue on bring anything good? How could saving William make things bad?!"

Waving a hand back to the video display screen, the DVD menu still playing in a loop, Davies answered, "Think back to Evan in the movie. All the factors he found he couldn't account for, how it's slowly driving him to the edge of despair as he tries to fix all the problems each of his attempts causes. And believe me, the final answer he comes up with in the director's cut of the film is just ghastly. Much less pat than merely giving up the woman he loves." She slid off the desk, pacing around. "That's the thing of it, Max. We don't know every little thing that changing the past will alter. We can't see into the future." She paused, smirked. "Unless there's something you want to tell me?"

Max shook her head. No such luck for her yet.

"When you go and change the past, you're a beaver, damming up the flow of time, unable to see or comprehend how the river's new course affects things downstream. Certainly, the dam is nice for the beavers, but the drought it creates for the village miles away...they can't see or comprehend this. And why are you laughing?"

Max covered up her mouth, then lowered it, still showing a smile. "Sorry. It's just...I think that's the Blackwell swimming team. The Beavers." She blinked. "Oh wait, no. That was the Otters."

Davies chuckled. "I see. Anyhow, I'm sure someone might look at World War II, and find it so horrible that it needed to be prevented. But there were a LOT of positive changes that came from it as well: the end of conventional, world-spanning warfare as a viable strategy, the birth of the modern feminist and civil rights movements, a period of remarkable peace and prosperity in the Western world. Our lives would be so different without that conflict, and not necessarily for the better."

"But what about my rewind powers? Isn't that just as risky?"

"I'm sure a valid argument could be made that any and all manipulation of time is risky. Conversely, I will admit that there is something that strikes me as less...problematic...with what you do now. It's as if you're able to only extend out a decision point. You can see the immediate consequences of an action: a careless word, or a good deed gone bad. But eventually, you're forced to accept the long term responsibilities of what you've done, and move forward."

Davies glanced up at the cameras in the corners of the room, checked her watch. Max watched with a confused expression as the other woman leaned over the school and leaned in low to whisper, just for her.

"Max. The security system is disabled for the next two minutes. They'll never know, I've seen to that. But I want you to understand why I've been showing you these movies. Make you think long and hard about the ramifications of using your powers. I know we've done some initial tests, and that you feel that if you push yourself hard enough, you could go back in time again, provided you can focus on a picture someone took of you. But the purpose of this week's lessons have been to show you why...why I think you must never try it again. Why we _need_ to convince Martinet and the others that you going back and saving Chloe's father was a fluke. Something that we simply can't replicate. Do you understand me?"

Max nodded slowly, even as the blood drained from her face. "Yeah. Yeah I think I do. The less dangerous they think I am, the less likely they'll want to-to lock me away forever?"

Davies gave a single, sharp nod. "That's part of it, certainly. Just promise me, for the time being, that you'll avoid experimenting with that aspect of your power on your own, as well? Perhaps someday, we can understand it. Find situations where the benefits exceed the risks, but it's simply too dangerous here and now."

"O-okay."

"Max, promise me!"

"I promise! I promise, God. You think seeing the creepy shit that happened in the movie didn't scare me enough already?! Or all the others? God, after _Somewhere In Time_ , I never want to check my pockets for loose change again."

With that, Davies suddenly rose up, and wet back to her desk. Paused for a few seconds, then smiled, as the status lights on the camera returned "Anyhow, I think you've earned an early break for the day. I'll send you an email with next week's homework assignments. I personally will be out in the field over the next week or so, but I'm confident that you're enough of a self-starter that you can manage. We'll have a few check in sessions. Rodriguez and Reese will be on base for a while yet, and they can handle your continuing field agent training. So, on that note, have a wonderful day and see you again soon."

Max rose from her desk and nodded, glad to be done for the day. "Okay. See you. Um...good luck, whatever it is you're doing?"

She waved and headed off.

 _Shit. Like I needed to be scared of myself today. Huh. I wonder if I could get away with that. Pretend my powers just totally stopped working. Then they'd have to let me go, right? Yeah, they'd be disappointed, but then I could go home and have a normal life again._

Max let herself believe that fantasy for exactly eight seconds before coming back to her senses.

* * *

 **May 2009**

Meredith sighed heavily, groaning as he massaged his abdomen. He'd been having a lot of issues with heartburn lately; too many late nights, combined with too much fast food. At least, that's what he told himself, as he took a slug of liquid antacid straight from the bottle, then slipped it into his jacket pocket.

Spring was in full bloom in Arcadia Bay, not that you could tell, here in the dark back corner of the Fishwife Tavern. The place wasn't so much a dive as it was clearly a locals only spot, tackily decorated in nautical ephemera, pictures of native sons and daughters long gone and forgotten, and yellowing, faded regulatory placards. It was a place people could get a drink, and more importantly, not pay too much attention to each other. But it was an appropriate place for the meeting he was having with the Caulfields: quiet, out of the way, technically neutral ground. Where people were inclined not to pry into each others affairs.

It was the first time he'd returned to the town since Max's extraction over seven months ago. And he was absolutely dreading this homecoming.

He checked his watch, glanced over towards the front as he watched the tavern door opened. revealing Max's father, Ryan Caulfield, with his wife Vanessa in tow. The older man's face was a false mask of neutrality; the eyes clearly showed the barely contained anger that he felt at this moment. Hers? She wore her fear and heartache openly.

Waving a hand to summon them, Meredith indicated the two chairs across the table, for them to sit.

"Mr. and Mrs. Caulfield. I'm not sure if you remember me. Meredith Reese, we met...ah-we met back in October."

He held out his hand to the other man; he was neither disappointed nor surprised when he refused to take it.

"Yes. I remember you." Caulfield muttered darkly through gritted teeth, as he and his wife took their chairs. "Are you the one the government's sent? Are you going to tell me and my wife what the hell has happened to our daughter?! Why every lawyer that we've tried to retain on our behalf mysteriously drops us as a client after barely a week of investigation?"

From day one, Meredith warned the brass that this was exactly what was going to happen. The Caulfields were smart, strong-willed people. They'd already managed to shake off the initial memory implants he'd laid down, as well as the follow up work undertaken back in the late winter. His superiors were accusing him of using far too light a touch.

It was a fair accusation; he was, and with good reason.

Memory was a tricky, fragile thing. What we remember, how we relate to it, that grand collection of experiences and context are what essentially make up an individual identity. Tug too hard, on too many threads at the same time, and that vast tapestry threatened to come undone.

He had to make them understand this, somehow. It still wasn't too late to try and salvage the situation, bind the Caulfields to an ironclad NDA, and be done with it. Get them as much on their side as was possible. Stop insisting that Max had to become the next best thing to a ghost.

But in the meantime, he had his orders...

"Yes, Mr. Caulfield. I'm here to have a frank discussion with you. You and your wife.

Vanessa Caulfield spoke at last, unable to contain herself. "Please! Please, we just...we need to know why! Why would our own government abduct our little girl!? How can you possibly justify what you've done!" To her credit, she kept her voice low enough so as not to carry, despite the emotion it was charged with.

Meredith held out his hands accommodatingly. "Alright. Fair enough. Let me get you both a drink, and then we'll talk. Open and honest."

Max's father stared daggers at him. "No. You'll tell us now. We're here for answers, damnit, not to make polite conversation!"

Meredith grimaced again. Whatever the hell was going on with his stomach, he was going to need something a lot stronger than Mylanta.

"Right, well maybe you'll just indulge me, let me have something first?"

Because he was going to need something a lot stronger than heartburn medicine to get him through the night after he was finished with the Caulfields.

* * *

 **July 2009**

 _Dear Chloe,_

 _Sorry I haven't written in a while. I hope you got the last couple of letters I sent you!_

The first attempt had bounced back from the censors. Too much compromising information, they told her. The second letter went through, but only as far as she was able to tell. Would they even let her read a response from Chloe?

But why wouldn't they? What would be the risk? She was just being paranoid.

 _And I also want to say, again, I'm sorry I didn't get a chance to say bye for real. Things got so stupid crazy at home. I was kind of stunned, you know? My life changed so fast, and I didn't have a lot of time to process._

 _Anyhow, Zion Academy is actually kinda cool. There aren't a lot of other kids here. It's a really intensive program, small class sizes, a lot of instructor one-on-one. I guess I can see why Mom and Dad were pushing me to go, especially with the scholarship. This place can't be cheap! They have like computers in the desks and crazy future shit like that!_

 _The other kids are okay, I guess. We don't talk a lot. But there's this girl, Alanna. She's an older student, and she helped keep me safe from some bullies that I ran into on my first day here. She's nice, but I think she's a bit of a pyromaniac!_

Max looked down at the words she wrote, then erased part of them. As funny as the joke might have been, the people censoring her mail would have shit a brick.

 _She's nice. And so is my teacher, Ms. Davies, and Mr. Reese, who teaches gym._

They were all lies of a sort. But she needed _something_ to talk about. Something to make the letter seem authentic.

 _But Seattle's not Arcadia Bay. And no one here is you._

 _I really miss you._

 _I miss riding my bike with you, and watching movies with you, laughing and gossiping and talking shit with you. And eating too many waffle fries at the Two Whales, together, and hiking and I miss your Mom and Dad, too. Tell them I say hi!_

 _The study schedule here is really crazy. We don't get a lot in the way of vacation breaks. I guess it's kind of like those schools in Japan, that way. I mean, it's July, and I'm still here, can you freaking believe it!? But I'm sure that before too long, I'll get a chance to come home. And then you better believe I am running over to your house, and we are tearing shit up!_

 _Your best friend forever,_

 _love_

 _Max_

She watched the paper print out from the small laser printer set into her desk. Prayed that she actually got this one. That Chloe would write her back.

It was one of the few rays of hope that kept her going.

* * *

 **October 2009**

"So. Here we are, Agent Davies. One year on from Max's Emergence. As you know, I'll need to produce a report for DHS next week; they're very interested in knowing how this investment is paying off."

Camilla glanced down at her tablet, and bristled. She absolutely loathed how Martinet referred to Max as if she were a thing. A tank, a plane, or some other shiny weapons system that was going through its research and development paces. Robertson had been a hardass, but he understood in the end that Specials were human beings. Empowered, incredibly useful assets, but people all the same.

 _A bloody damn shame. I was hoping Paul wasn't nearly as bad as my initial impressions led me to believe._

On the other hand, perhaps she was being unfair to him, and too kind to Robertson; he left, never having faced a challenge to the status quo like Max Caulfield.

"Most of what you need has already been delivered to your desk, sir. Max is bright, eager, dedicated, despite the challenging circumstances the DI continues to place her in. She's been largely cooperative with the experiments we've asked her to undertake, especially some of the more...morally questionable ones."

She left that statement to hang in the air; Martinet didn't rise to the bait, and so she continued.

"She's taking well to the initial martial arts training; I day say it's one of her favorites, actually."

Martinet hmmmed low, reaching out to fiddle aimlessly with one of his pens. "I can't help but notice that you made a change to the proposed curriculum. I was under the impression we were going to be teaching her LINE."

"Sir, with all due respect, there's a reason why the US Marine Corps moved over to MCMAP; aside from being more tactically flexible, it's better suited for peacekeeping operations. For the past year, Rodriguez and Albertson have focused teaching her defense: Akido, Systema countermoves, and the aforementioned MCMAP. In the next year, they'll start to include Krav Maga, and I should think _that_ would be acceptable?"

Martinet nodded once. "I suppose it'll do. Now, there have been some concerns about how her powers are developing."

Camille tried not to sigh at this. "We've managed to get her comfortably rewinding time back from five minutes to two and a half hours. We think as her training continues, we can consistently achieve greater gains."

"How long do you suppose until you get her rewinding up to twenty-four hours?"

She paused overlong. "Sir, we're developing her abilities as quickly as safety and responsibility will allow. No doubt you've read the medical reports? The issues with nose bleeds and cranial swelling that occur if we push her too far, too fast, not to mention the incidents where her powers temporarily shut down if she over-exerts herself. The abilities of many Specials are like a muscle, which needs to be trained and conditioned in the right way: slowly, gradually. Reese didn't start out able to affect memory to the scale that he can now, nor was Wright able to lock down every Special in a mile radius immediately after her Emergence. DHS needs to show patience in this matter."

Martinet fixed a steely glance on her, "At the same time, I don't think I need to remind you how incredibly valuable her abilities could be if only..."

Her voice rose slightly in response, leaned forward just a bit. "Yes sir, I understand completely what is at stake. And I would like to remind you that every time we have Max use her powers for any reason, be it training, testing, or the like, she's literally stealing that time off her lifespan. Push her too far, too fast, and she might age herself out of usefulness."

 _Admittedly, that's a bit dramatic. But he doesn't need to know that._

Moving quickly along, either considering the matter closed, or looking to continue the debate another time, he asked, "And this ability that Max mentioned in her initial interviews. That she was able to jump back over the span of two weeks, and mentally control her past self?"

At this, Camilla leaned back, clasping her hands together. She glanced over towards the faux-outside windows, as if gathering her thoughts, then flicked her gaze back to Martinet. "Well, I'm sorry to report that we've had no further success with that. She's convinced a photo on the wall at her friend's house is what allowed her to access that ability, but we've not had any luck duplicating the feat. Believe me, it's not for lack of trying; I honestly believe Max has given it her best effort."

"Still. It seems strange she could have done something so profoundly powerful as this once, and then never again."

She began to bob her head, suppressing the urge to speak slower, as if trying to explain something once again to a small child. "As I've indicated in previous reports, during an Special's flare window, exhibition of 'wild potential' is not uncommon. I was actually telekinetic for about two days after my initial Emergence, but I've not been able to move as much as a penny since. Reese temporarily exhibited all the classic signs of synesthesia, and Rodriguez swears she was able to mentally control an entire park's worth of squirrels for the first six hours, before settling down as a pyrokinetic. It's vital to remember that Specials directly manipulate reality at the quantum level; after Emergence, they're like a jar of silt that's been shaken up; things take time to settle down, and curious effects are evidenced that may never return again. Once abilities are set in place, that's often that. They may grow in power, but I've only read of one or two examples where entirely new abilities were gained."

He snorted, frowning, and carelessly tossed the pen back onto the desk. "That's damn unfortunate. I think Secretary Napolitano was personally interested in the possibilities."

"I suppose unfortunate is one way of describing the situation. Extremely dangerous is another. But we will continue to see what progress can be made, of course."

 _That ought to keep him happy, for now at least._

"Fine. Thank you, Davies. I'll contact you again if there's anything more I need, but I believe I have enough to present my report"

She rose up, eager to withdraw from the Director's office.

To the best of her knowledge, Max was keeping up her end of the agreement they had struck several months ago, to no longer continue any study or discussion about her potential ability to travel back in time by focusing on photographs in which she was featured. Hopefully, Martinet would simply give up on this line of inquiry, and pin his hopes on Max's rewinding power.

In Davies' opinion, it was far too dangerous to study, despite the excitement that the scientist in her felt at the prospect of studying those temporal abilities. Of course she could see certain tactical advantages as well, but...again, the risk was too great.

She was treading an incredibly dangerous line, making that determination on her own, suppressing findings and evidence the way she was. At the same time, she was convinced that the world might thank her for that someday.

It wasn't the first time she'd made a judgement call that might have spelled the end of her career with the Damocles Initiative; as a Passive, they probably wouldn't try to 'retire' her outright, but they could make her life unpleasant enough if they kicked her out. Certainly, she'd done her best to try and adapt to the culture changes that were swiftly imposed on her and the rest of the researchers when the S.O.A.P. was decoupled from Health and Human Services, and jammed into the bureaucratic golem that became Homeland Security. When the mission stopped primarily being about finding ways that Specials could benefit all of humanity, and instead finding ways to militarize them.

 _We got through the Cold War somehow without it happening, hell, bloody damn near did under Reagan, but still, we persevered. Am I being naive, thinking that with a change in Presidential administrations, it's just a matter of time until Damocles shifts back from such an aggressively military bent?_

Only time would tell.

* * *

 **November 2009**

Chloe curled up at the foot of her bed, shaking like a leaf.

Every time she closed her eyes, she could see it playing out in front of her: her father's last moments, as he rushed out into the street. Her ears roared against with the screech of rubber, the sickening thud of flesh, bone, and muscle crunching against metal and glass.

And she wasn't even there when it happened.

Everything she sees and hears is spun from her imagination. How she envisions it all must have happened on that day. When her father did what he did best; care about other people. Play the hero, when the moment called for it.

She wondered what would be worse: replaying the the imagined scene repeatedly in her mind, or actually being there. Actually watching as it all played out for real. It ached so badly, her desire to be there with him at the end. If only she could have held his hand and told him how much she loved him. But maybe it would have been so much more traumatizing it to actually have the whole incident painted in the most gruesome of strokes. She had to figure there were times when the reality of something was a hell of a lot worse than anything the mind could invent.

She was so alone now. Her friends, they tried to help her, but they didn't know how. They couldn't figure out how to reach out to her, pierce through the shield she'd thrown up around herself. Her mother did her best, but in many ways, her dad's death struck her mom even harder.

There was only one person who might have been able to comfort her. The one who would have wrapped her arms around her, cradled her, listened to her, or just sat there, wiping her eyes dry. The girl who would have moved heaven and hell to try and help her get through this.

Once upon a time, at least...

But Max Caulfield wasn't anything more than a ghost now. A year gone, and not a single word after that last awful text conversation.

 _Max! Where the hell are you? Why the fuck won't you come back?! You're my best friend. Were. You need to be here. Oh God...*I* need you to be here._

If only she could somehow wind back time. Pluck Max from the past, and sob on her shoulder.

But there was no one to help her now.

She was utterly and entirely alone with her grief.

* * *

 ** _A/N:_** Hey kids! It's Black Swan Saturday, brought to you by **Lyta** and **Corentin!** Sponsored by Manic Panic, the Manic-Panickiest hairdye allowed by law! Weeeee!

So that was a long one. And the next four chapters afterwards will make up a singular arc that I think clocked in at something like 30-35k. Part of me worried that I was taking too long to get to 2013, but it occurred to me that this is such a massively different AU, that I couldn't just handwave away a lot of it, and it turned into rather fertile storytelling ground.

At the same time: Guess who has two thumbs, and just finished the first draft of the chapter where Chloe and Max meet up on a Monday in October? This gal! It's nice to finally get there and start writing, and I had a lot of fun with it. And as you can see, Our Blunette Gayngel probably does not have a wheelchair-bound future ahead of her. It could be said that some destinies can't be avoided, and sadly, poor William met his yet again. But don't think the consequences of changing the past are fully played out yet...

I want to give a shout out to **Reilovernat1213.** Without their encoragement, Rodriguez was going to end up as a very minor chatacter. Insteady she becomes an important secondary, so thanks!

Just a warning, things are getting a little crazy in my life; while I technically have the next six chapters written out in various draft forms, the editing process takes me a long while, so there may come a time when I can't keep such a tight schedule, buuut...rest assured we've got written material for weeks to go!

I just want to thank everyone, you've been really kind lately with the reviews, and I appreciate them all. Have a great Labor Day, for all you folks living in the US.

 **9-5-15:** A tip of the hat to **RED78910** for spotting a small but significant dating error.


	7. A Long And Downward Spiral

**December 2009**

"So - um - so how has school been going, dear?"

Max did her best to force a smile, wishing she actually had a reason to smile at all. This was the first time she was able to visit with her parents since being taken away from Arcadia Bay. There was so much she wanted to tell them: the initial weeks of anger, horror and frustration. Settling into a routine that was almost-but-not-quite normal. Her continued fear for their safety. How much she loved them, and wanted to keep them safe. How sorry she was for what was being done to them.

If only she could figure out a way - a real way - to make it stop. Or at least get better. Some way better than having to lie to her parents, on top of everything else.

"Uh...great! Everything's great! My classes are all...er...good."

Her mother and father both nodded, smiling pleasantly enough, before turning to Reese, who was sitting in the overstuffed easy chair across from the sofa. It was her father who asked the question, "And um...Mr? What is it you teach, exactly?"

"Vakarian. Harold Vakarian. I teach history. Oh, and phys ed. You know how it is, you don't get away at any school without pulling double duty in one way or another." He did his best to keep his smile natural, wide and even, but was clearly uncomfortable with this whole situation as well.

Her mother lit up, "Oh! Really now? I majored in history. What do you teach?"

Reese paused, "What do I...oh! You know. The slightly more esoteric. Mostly the Dark Ages, with focus on the Middle East during that time period."

Max winced, mostly out of sympathy for the younger man, knowing just how badly he had put his foot in it. She knew exactly what sort of history her mother was into.

"Oh!" she clapped her hands together. "How fascinating. It just so happens that I did my bachelor's thesis on the rise and fall of the Umayyad Caliphate. We should definitely talk about that, after dinner."

To his credit, he did his best to chase away the worst of his dismay. "Yes. Of course. That'd be - uh - lovely."

"I...it's just. With all due respect, Mr. Vakarian, I can't quite remember why you're accompanying Max back home? That seems like an unusual policy." Max's father looked to her mother for confirmation, before settling a suspicious gaze upon the other man.

Before she could respond, Reese jumped in, focusing his attention on them both. "Ha ha, I'm sure you remember. One of the programs we offer at Zion Academy, giving parents the chance to host a teacher of our most gifted first year students, in order to help them understand how we're helping their child fulfil their full potential." He rose up as he began to make his explanations. Resting a hand on each of their shoulders, he continued, "And as I recall, you both jumped at the chance."

There was an eerie stillness; a pause, as each of them assimilated the new reality that Reese was injecting into their memories. Like a record needle jumping out of a stuck groove, and into a new one, the easy smiles returned.

Max looked away. She couldn't stand to watch, and didn't want her parents seeing the tears welling up.

"Right! Ah ha! Right, of course. Gosh, senior moment. How could I forget?" Max's father said.

"No worries." Reese replied, his smile straining with false confidence. "The important part is just to enjoy the holidays. Together, as a family."

Max's mother spoke next. "Well, perhaps we should head to the table for supper?" With that, her parents rose. Reese shot a guilty glance in Max's direction. He'd explained previously, and again right before they came for this short holiday stop, that he had to keep up the illusion that she was attending school on a scholarship, that it was all her parents idea. She'd gone along with it so far, understanding that this was about their protection, and the need to keep Max's powers a state secret; but it chilled her to the bone to see her parents so blatantly manipulated.

She'd hate Reese for doing it, too...if it didn't seem to be freaking him out in his own way as well. After more than a year, she finally came to see that he was trying to save them from a far worse alternative.

But Max couldn't take it any more. She was supposed to spend a full weekend at home, but the thought of them being exposed to any more memory tampering broke her heart. Quietly, after dinner, she took Reese to the corner, and begged him to make up some sort of excuse. Under normal circumstances, she'd want to stay as long as she could, soak up every minute with her parents. But not at this price.

A little more manipulation ensured that their one day stay was accepted, and the pair trudged off towards the non-descript black car they'd driven down to Oregon in.

"That was...that was really messed up. " Max sniffled, finally letting her tears fall freely.

"You're kinder than I would be, kiddo." He shook his head heavily, closed the door, and slumped against the wheel, as if all the energy suddenly drained from him.

They sat together, letting a minute's silence pass between them, before Max asked. "Am I making this worse for them? Will they do better if I just...just stopped? Coming home I mean. Could you mess with their brains less, that way?"

Reese grabbed at his abdomen and groaned; Max noted he'd been doing that a lot lately. "Max, memory is a funny, funny thing. Your presence strengthens it, and causes their subconscious to question the implants I've put in there, but absence makes the heart grow fonder, as the saying goes. If you stay away too long, they start to wonder why you haven't been around."

Max balled her hands hands up against her eyes, pressing tight, and for the millionth time desperately begged to wake up, as she gave up a few more tight sobs.

Damned if she did, damned if she didn't.

She looked out the tinted windows, hungrily staring at home, as it disappeared off in the distance. It was a funny thing; she was at the age where she was desperate to strike out, get away from her parents shadow, find her own identity. Be her own Max, not just the daughter of Ryan and Vanessa Caulfield. But now that she was separated from them, all she wanted to do was get the hell out of the car and spend Christmas with them. Forget everything about Seattle and the Damocles Initiative and everything else that was forced into her life since that day slightly over a year ago.

She didn't think it was possible to feel worse. But she did.

"Wait!" she gulped out. "Wait...just...pull off to the side for a moment. Okay?"

Across the street was Chloe's house. It was curiously dark, and completely bereft of any Christmas ornamentation this year.

 _Weird. William_ always _loved putting on these super-elaborate displays. Maybe...maybe they went on vacation this year? Like France? Maybe they finally made it to Paris._

So close. And so far. A deep, instinctive need lit inside her. It was all she could do to keep from leaving the car, tearing down the street, and banging on the door, in a distant hope that maybe someone would answer.

She hugged herself tight as she imagined the scene.

 _The door would open. Chloe would be right behind it, and there would be candles lighting everything up. Hanging up the last of the decorations on the tree, wrapping up the final few presents. Joyce would have cookies and eggnog ready and waiting._

 _They'd be so happy to see her, all three of them. She'd throw herself into Chloe's arms, snuggling in close, and never let go._

Oh God. It felt so real. For a moment, she swore she could feel the other girl against her.

But none of that was on the table for her. Her lifeclock had been temporarily modified to register any discontinuities and transmit out to Wright, who was stationed just an hour away. If she tried to run, they'd track her down. And even if she could convince Reese to go with her, he'd have to zap their brains. Just like he did to her parents.

She found her voice again, and spoke, louder than she meant to. "Just...just drive, Reese. Okay? Just go! I don't..." She pressed a hand to the window, and watched as 44 Cedar Avenue receded in the distance.

"I can't ever come back here again."

* * *

 **October 2010**

It was Lab Rat week.

At least, that's what Max called it. The periods where due to the schedules and deployments of her various instructors, slack time was being taken up not only with the yearly battery of medical test, but also deploying her abilities to help with whatever new experiments the R&D lab had cooked up.

Today's project involved rabbits, for some reason.

These days, the science lab was being largely run by Doctors Jenkowitz and Tilson: respectively, a fat, balding science geek, his greasy black hair pulled back into a ponytail, and a dour, bespectacled woman with frizzy brown hair and an unfortunate resemblance to Sarah Silverman. They weren't mean per se, just unpleasant to deal with. Davies was constantly apologizing for them; while she oversaw and consulted on a lot of the higher end science issues for R&D, the Senior Field Agent wasn't actually in charge of that department any longer, having had to pull back from it in order to free up more of her time for training Max.

It was the way they treated her as just another science experiment, they way they forgot she was actually a fifteen year old girl that got to her. And the damn attitude, like she was too stupid to understand half of what was going on, the way they'd blow her off when she tried to inquire as to what exactly the point of their experiments were. Hell, she was smart. Davies was always telling her what a good student she was, and how she was going to start on some AP level material this academic cycle!

It'd gotten to the point where she'd just give up, grit her teeth, and bare it out. The sooner she got done dealing with these two clowns, the sooner she could go back to more important things; not that her current options of continuing to work on her abs, study intermediate chemistry or field strip an M-16 were much better, but at least she could do them alone, without having to deal with anyone else's stupid-ass shit.

She walked into the lab, dismissively waved to the pair, and murmured. "Alright. I'm here. So what would you little maniacs like to do first?"

This actually got a snort of amusement from Jenkowitz. "Heh-hey! Good one, Max."

She'd never seen the movie the line apparently came from, but Reese suggested trying it. Not that she had any desire to actually be friends with either of them, but maybe getting the pair to see her more as a person and less as a science toy would make her long term situation a bit more tolerable. Not that it mattered much to her, really. Moody and vaguely surly had become her default setting for everyone that wasn't her only three or four friends at Zion.

"So this shouldn't take long!" Jenkowitz began. "I mean, it'll seem really quick to us! Heh. God, I wish you could go back a couple of months, it would really help me figure out this amorphous crystal growth problem I can't quite seem to lick. Bounce you back and forth a few times while we figure it out? Shave years off the research!"

 _Yeah, and shave years off_ my _life in the process. Thanks a lot, asshole._

Max held out a hand and in a short tone of voice said, "Yeah, right, whatevs. Why don't you hand me the file, tell me what you want from me, and we'll get started?"

Tilson wheeled out a cage, with a laboratory bunny inside. Max immediately threw up her hands in protest.

Max shook her head vehemently, holding up her hands and waving them at the same time. "Whoa! No! We are not repeating the bunny experiment again! Not after what happened last time! Poor guys..."

Damocles had become increasingly interested in the possibility of Max being able to take people along with her for the ride when she rewound time. Animal experimentation so far had shown that the attempt created what Davies eventually referred to as 'neural shock induced by temporal-displacement and discontinuity'. In short, brains that weren't hers had too much trouble handling the disconnect from the normal flow of time. The further she tried to pull someone back with her, the more dramatic the effect, not to mention how potentially permanent it might become.

The rabbits they had her go back a full hour or two with never recovered.

And...and God. The sounds they made afterwards, the ones that did finally emerge from their catatonia. The sharp, piteous creeling...

Davies had once managed to convince her to take her back, just a few minutes. While the older woman tolerated the experience well enough, she soon discovered that this was a happy side effect of her enhanced brain. It did lead her to discover that the higher up on the "complex thought" chain a creature was, the better suited it was to handle the effect.

But no other human volunteer had stepped up to test that theory, so far.

Jankowitz groaned softly, "Maaax. C'mon. Don't be that way. God! It won't be for more than a few minutes at a time. Trust me we're - ah - we're experimenting on some wholly different aspects this time around.

Max didn't even ask for an elaboration past that. She was tired of 'You wouldn't fully understand it' or 'Sorry, that's classified' being the two default answers.

Tilson unceremoniously grabbed one of the rabbits, and stuck it with a needle from the syringe in her other hand. Max frowned. "Hey! Hey, what are you...I thought you said we weren't hurting them today!?" The other woman mumbled, her voice both silky smooth and lethargically monotone. "No one said anything of the sort. But we're not hurting them, we're just putting them to sleep. They won't feel any pain."

Max softened, just a touch. "Oh. Okay then. If you're just knocking them out. What, are you guys trying to figure out if that will protect them or something when I rewind?"

Both of them mumbled noncommittally. Max wouldn't realize until later just how badly she misunderstood the meaning of the term,exactly how Tilson had been using it.

"Okay Max, let's establish our usual baseline." he grabbed the chart from her hands, spent the next minute writing notes in some sort of coded handwriting only he could comprehend - otherwise, she'd be spying on his work all the time - , and then handed it back. "You know the drill. Go back, just a little bit. Please don't pull the usual schtick; it's not going to work this time, anyhow."

Max glanced at her lifeclock, and then smirked. She'd go back alright...

...and add an extra minute to the trip.

It was one of her favorite pranks to pull. To anyone in the 'static' timeline who was observing her, she'd seem to suddenly disappear from one place, and reappear in another. From Jankowitz and Tilson's perspective, it would be as if she popped out of thin air.

"Boo!"

It never, not once, ever rattled Tilson; the woman must have surgically extracted her ability to be surprised. But Jankowitz was an easy mark. Especially when Max timed it right, and he had his back to her when she 'appeared'.

He jumped, crying out, and then turned around, angrily lambasting her. "Damnit, Max! Every fucking time! When are you going to stop doing that? You're going to give me a heart attack!"

"No, that would be the Hot Pockets, tubbo." Max muttered under her breath. Then glanced up at him expectantly.

"Shit, I suppose your sudden appearance means we've already begun our experiment?"

Max smiled sweetly. "A: when it stops being funny. B:when you stop falling for it, even after you swear to me you won't. And yeah, here's your notes."

She handed the file folder back again. People loved this aspect about her powers, that she was a walking, breathing, paradox machine that didn't suffer the the full consequences of causality. When it became obvious to the Powers That Be that she could break into an office, and then rewind back and wipe out the evidence of her entry, they piled on a ton of infiltration, B&E and stealth training on to her curriculum.

"Hmmm. Alright. We're at round one. Baseline achieved. Tilson, I'm assuming 'Bugs' looks as healthy as ever? Yes? Okay, let me just update the info here. Oh, and Max, hang on to this as well, would you?" He grabbed the syringe that Tilson had just used to inject the rabbit, and handed it to her. She glanced at it and made a face.

"Jesus, you can't throw your own trash out?"

"It's all a part of the experiment. Now if you could please go back exactly one minute."

She puffed out curtly."Fine." Then glanced at her lifeclock again. Over the past couple of years, she'd develop and increasingly accurate sense of precision in her rewinds. If she took the time to study the differences between objective and subjective time, and focus, she could usually time her rewind to the second, although that precision drifted the further back she went.

Jenkowitz jumped again. "Damnit, Max! Every fucking time..."

"Hey! That's your fault. I came back to exactly the time you told me to." She peevishly held out the folder to him.

Grabbing the log file and reading through the contents, and muttered to himself. "Huh. Guess we've already started the experiment. Right, okay. It says I'm supposed to ask you to hand back the syringe." He quickly reached over and carefully took it from her hand. Then looked to the rabbit.

He smirked with demonic glee as he regarded Tilson, pointing to the rabbit still in its cage, and then to the syringe. He laughed, high and nasal, "Hahahaahahahaha! Look at that. Look at it! I love it! That _never_ gets old! It's not in the rabbit, it's not in the syringe, the stuff is just gone! Like it never existed" He shook his head, and pointed to Max. "You totally break fucking thermodynamics, kid. You kick it in the dick. That's so awesome!"

 _Kick it in the dick..._

The nostalgia the line brought up dampened her already low spirits considerably, and she bowed her head for a moment.

Tilson murmured, "Hold on. I have to prepare another dose. And get a clean needle." She tossed the old one into a sharps box, then removed the rabbit from its cage, and injected it, as she had done - at least from Max's perspective - once before. The rabbit barely struggled, before passing out.

She grabbed the limp, unresponsive animal, and held it out for Max to take. Jenkowitz did likewise with the file folder.

"Go back about two minutes, please."

Max again double checked her lifeclock against the local time, just to 'lock in' her sense of 'Now', and rewound. She looked down quickly at the rabbit nestled in the crook of her arm.

 _Poor guy. I hope this isn't hurting you. Maybe sleeping it out will make the ride easier, huh?_

"Tilson? Is it me, or did the damn rabbit just vanish from its cage? Oh crap, that means..." he turned around, better prepared this time. "Yes! Of course, Twisted Sister is here. Wow. We must be halfway through our experiment already? I love this! I swear, the amount of time you save me, kid."

Max handed 'Bugs' over to Tilson, who immediately poked and prodded it, checking pupil response, and running some sort of advanced looking scanning device over it. Jenkowitz busied himself with studying, then adding to his notes.

"So how long is that thing going to stay asleep?" Max asked, as she received the updated log file.

Tilson seem positively bemused at the question. "Forever, I should think."

"Wait...wait! What the hell? You said you were just putting it to sleep!"

The other woman narrowed her eyes, looking at her like she was an idiot child. "I didn't but...assuming you're talking about another timeline, and I did...uh, yeah? It's the standard narcotic preparation for animal euthanasia."

Jenkowitz interjected, "Alright Max, I'll get the next specimen out, and then the plan is to have you inject him and see..."

In her anger, Max rewound back. She could fix this, right? All she had to do was rewind, and the poor rabbit they killed would be back. Then she'd tell them to go fuck themselves. Sick, sick fucking experiment!

"Holy shit! Tilson, did you see that? Did that rabbit just keel over and die? What the fuck?!"

The other man glanced over to her, and shook his head, smirking. "Oh, now it makes sense. Let me guess, we're in the middle of something. Huh. Okay, hand me the log file, _this_ should be a real interesting result."

Max glanced over, at the rabbit in it's cage. Still and not breathing. She couldn't understand what happened, why it didn't just go back to the way it was before. Had...did bringing it back with her cause something to break in reality? Take it out of the normal flow of time?

A fury rose up within her, as she roared, angrily tossing the log file back in his face. "You sick assholes!" She turned and ran out of the lab, ignoring the angry shouts behind her. She was tempted to rewind back, spitefully wipe out all of the log entries...but if the rabbit hadn't come back, would the log stay the same? It made her head hurt to think about, and thinking was something she wasn't doing too clearly at the moment anyhow.

She couldn't stand to be around or look at anybody right now. All she wanted was to be alone!

* * *

Reese sighed, as he picked his way through some of the darker, cramped piping alcoves in the lower sections of the facility. He'd heard about the situation with Max suddenly running out of the middle of one of her lab experiments, about the same time he was reporting back from a field assignment. Naturally, he offered to take point in trying to track her down.

 _Gotta hand it to you kid. You've gotten good at figuring out where to hide. Where the temporal sensors won't find you, or at least smart enough not to try and rewind when you're hiding like this. God damnit...poor Max. What the hell did Franken-witz and his girlfriend Igor do now?_

He barely heard the soft sobs, above the hum of machinery and flow of fluids. But he knew the sound; he was far too familiar with it for his liking. It didn't take more than a minute to track her down, curled up in a ball and hiding. It was clear, even in the low light, she'd been crying for a while.

"Max? Hey...it's me. It's Meredith. I'm sorry. Whatever happened. I just got back from Dubai, and you know, I wanted to make sure I was the one who found you."

He sat himself down on one of the lower pipes running in parallel with the floor. Sighed hard and gave a pained smile. She was just like his sister Ariel, when she was that age.

 _Well, maybe not as angry. God knows, she's got plenty of reasons why._

"H-hey, Mere." Max murmured out.

"Hi. So I got some of the story. Jenkowitz was all..." and at this he started doing an impression of the other man's nasally whine, "I don't understand, the kid just flipped out over some weird miscommunication or something! And I'm also an asshole who didn't get laid until he was twenty-nine! Ahhhh uuuurrrrr!"

Max gave a laugh, despite herself. That was good. He liked making her laugh. It was such a rare thing now, or so he gathered. It been over a month since he'd last seen her, field work taking up more and more of his time as of late. Every time he went away, he worried that the girl he first met, the one who enthused about saving the world and helping people, would finally be dead and gone inside, leading an angry, bitter woman-child behind.

"Just...just so fucked up, Reese. They wanted to kill rabbits, and see if...if they stayed dead. Then they wanted _me_ to kill them, and I didn't even know that's what they were doing. Why? Why!? Makes no sense, them doing this!"

Reese's blood went cold. He was sorry to say that the answer came to him, quick and clear, like a bolt from the blue.

Seeing how Max's powers affected creatures that had been killed, and then pulled back through the timestream with her? Properly developed, this sort of thing could make her the world's most effective and frightening assassin.

"Oh my God." he breathed out, face going pale and sickly as he made his realization.

Max saw it, and understood immediately. Now that she wasn't torn up with depression and sobbing, she quickly put two and two together.

"Mere? Are...they gonna make...do you think?" She choked, and then tried again. "Like make me do it to people?! Oh God! Are they going to make me..."

She broke out into more sobs. Sad, angry, smaking her fists against the pipe and the floor. "Fuck! I hate this place!" she shrieked out. "I fucking hate this place and everyone in it!"

It cut him to the quick, to watch what was happening to her. He reached out, meaning to steady her, as he placed a hand on her shoulder. He didn't intend for what happened next. At least not consciously. All he knew was that he saw her in such pain. He wanted to take at least some of it away, the only way he instinctively knew how.

He yanked his hand away, as if burned. She didn't notice. Just dried her eyes off, a bit confused, and then grumbled.

"God. What a fucked up day, Reese. They were killing these rabbits, putting them to sleep, right? And then made me rewind back with them. It was creepy, you know? Holding those poor little guys. But what was the point? They were already dead, like for hours. Like they were cold and stiff already. Sooooo creepy." She narrowed her eyes, angry. "I got so upset. I think Jenkowitz was just teasing me, playing a prank? Not funny. Not fucking funny! Damn asshole."

All he could do was nod.

 _Oh God...oh God I didn't mean. I did it again. Just like how it happened with Barbara, right in the beginning..._

Calming, she rose up and groaned, "Anyhow, I lost my shit and ran here for a bit. But I swear, I hate this place and everyone in it sometimes." She gave her eyes another wipe and murmured, "Geez, why was I crying? Anyhow, yeah, I don't mean you and Davies and Rodriguez, though. You guys are cool."

She started to walk off, glancing backwards when she realized he wasn't following her. Where she found him wincing hard, groaning, clutching just above his abdomen, at the lower edge of his sternum.

"Are you coming? I could really use a friend, when they chew me out." She paused a beat. "You okay?"

Reese tried to quickly compensate. "What? Yeah, no. Fine. Just jet lag. You go ahead, I'll be behind you in a minute."

She nodded and muttered, "Sucks. Sorry I can't take you back with me like I can Davies. That'd probably fix you up." Her voice started to trail off, "See! _That_ would be useful. That'd help people, getting them over jet lag. People could actually do something with that, unlike delivering bunny corpses through time."

With a shaky hand, Reese reached into his jacket pocket, extracting a prescription medicine bottle. Worked the top off, popped two of the pink pills into his mouth, chewed and swallowed, ignoring the sensation of razor blades attacking his upper stomach.

 _Fuck! I thought it was starting to get better._

He finally rose, and followed after her.

* * *

 **November 2010**

Max grinned to herself, chomping contentedly on a bowl of buttered popcorn, as she watched the movie on the big screen of the monitoring room.

"O-M-G. For cereal! This movie is so cool! What do you say this was called? Scott Pilgrim?

"Scott Pilgrim Versus The World. Yeah, I just got it on DVD. Cool, huh? I realize some of the references might be a little over your head though, but still cool right?" Chen smirked at her, snagging a handful of popcorn from his own bowl.

Max nodded emphatically. "No, it's okay. Really! I get the video game references. And I love her hair! Ramona, right? I love it. I wish I had blue hair. It looks, like, super sexy!"

Max never really got to watch movies anymore, not in the theater. Most of the staff except her had lives of their own; homes, apartments, loved ones. She was one of the few folks who actually lived at Zion.

 _Probably the only one who actually does, for real._

They'd started making her take monitor duty as part of her training, but it was boring as hell. Emergences were always rare, and not getting any less so it seemed. Chen and Villanova - Hubbard retired last year - never complained. It was a cushy job with a fat paycheck and a decent pension for easy work. The American Dream.

Villanova, a shy, socially awkward woman in her late twenties, turned from the screen. "Max, I could do your hair. Like that, if you wanted. You know? If we get them to..."

A throat cleared loudly. All three turned to appraise Agent Wright, who was walking in through the door.

"Fuck is all this? It's called monitor duty, not movie night." She focused the bulk of her ire on Max directly. "You think this is just a game, girl? Sleep away camp, like the three of you are going to paint each others nails and talk about cute boys?"

Chen held up his hand, "Nikki..."

She glared at him, and he backtracked.

"Agent Wright, don't blame her. It was my idea. I mentioned that I had the DVD..."

"...and she no doubt sweet talked you into throwing it up on the big TV and show her, because monitor duty is too damn boring for her spoiled ass."

Max rose up, frowning. "You can hardly talk! I know you sit on _your_ ass doing crossword puzzles all night, talking and listening to music. Why are you giving me shit for how I spend my time..."

Wright cut her off, "Because you're tying up the fucking monitor! World could be coming to an end, PAN-Opticon could be screaming, and the three of you'd never know!"

Villanova raised a hand, and began to speak, in a shy whisper, "Actually, that's not true, the system is designed with a series of overri-"

"Did I fucking ask you?!" Wright turned, pointing an aggressive finger in the other woman's direction, shutting her down hard. Turning back to Max, she continued, "Now you sit your ass down, and you finish up the rest of your shift. Three hours, hardly a thing."

Max glowed, sitting herself back in the chair, and grumbled darkly.

Wright gripped the arms of the chair, and leaned forward. "Oh, I'm sorry, what was that?"

Grabbing a small handful of popcorn, Max tossed it into her mouth, chewed and swallowed, maintaining eye-contact the entire time. She then spoke up.

"I called you a fucking bitch, bitch."

A sharp slap, palm against cheek split the air.

Chen was up on his feet, "Whoa! Hey! Now stand down, Agent Wright! There's no need for that!" Villanova turned away, hiding her face and shirking, as if the entire scene was traumatizing her; given her psychological profile, it no doubt was.

"Don't tell me how to handle discipline amongst my Agents, Chen. I'm the XO of the Alpha Team, I've got the right."

Chen stood his ground, though he couldn't hide the nervousness from his voice. "Yeah, and maybe we can call in Davies, and settle the situation. For Max, I'm sure she'd be willing to be bothered..."

Max rubbing her face and stared hateful daggers at Wright, who had risen back up.

"Just...get your damn head on straight, girl. When they actually send you out in the field someday, won't be any room for error, for screwing around." She then quickly retreated from the monitoring room.

The silence hung, heavy and corrosive, across the room. It was a full minute before Chen said, "Hey Max, why don't we..."

"I wanna finish the movie! Just...just put it back and we'll watch it. Fuck her, she's such a fucking bully! I tried so hard to be friends with her since I got here, and all she does is shit on me!"

 _Someday, Wright. I swear, some fucking day, I'm going to make you sorry! Shoot you or something. Right between the eyes._

Chen walked over, patted Villanova's shoulder, pausing as the other woman tensed up. Then walked over to Max's chair, and pushed a few buttons. A small screen popped up out of the armrest.

"I'll - I'll shift the feed over to the private display. It's not much but...we gotta take our victories where we can get them, right?"

Max nodded, still rubbing her sore cheek, and favored Chen with a grateful expression, leaning in to give him a soft little headbutt. He then turned back, slumping down heavily into his chair.

He shook his head slowly, and gave Villanova a meaningful look. She reached out a tentative hand, which he took.

"Some days, I don't know what the hell's happening to this place." he softly murmured.

* * *

 **January 2011**

"So. Tea huh? That's funny, because I know you don't usually call people into your office for tea and chit chat. At least, not with me."

Wright and Davies stared across the table at each other.

"I just wanted to have an informal talk, is all."

"Right. About what? Or I can guess, I suppose."

Davies narrowed her eyes, fixing a soft but steely gaze on the other woman. "I imagine that you can."

"Okay, look. Stop you right there then. It's not my job to be her fucking friend."

"No, I agree, that's not what we pay you for. But it's not in your job description to make her time here needlessly unpleasant either."

"Someone has to keep her in line. That's what Martinet told me. I'm just following orders. Ma'am. Like a good team player." Wright leaned in and murmured, "Not all of us are allowed to get away with pushing buttons."

Davies did her best to ignore the remark, at least for now. She wasn't blind. She'd sensed that Wright had it in for Max since day one, and even she couldn't figure out why.

"Nicole, I don't get it. This isn't quite...you."

Wright shrugged. Glanced one side, then the other. Put down her cup of tea, and said, "Right. Fine. You want an explanation?"

She nodded "One would be nice."

Wright threw up her hands. "I don't know why! There. I'm still trying to figure it out, but I just...can't stand to be in the same room with her. It's instinctive. Kid sets my teeth on edge. Sound of her voice, the way she used to try and get on my good side, and now the way she keeps trying to antagonize me. Just...all of it. It's like God's declared that we're not going to be buddies, and you don't fight the Man Above."

Leaning back, and screwing up her face into a small scowl, she continued, "Who knows. I'm a Null, and she's...probably the biggest damn Active on the block now. Probably would have caused an Incident if we hadn't taken her away from her home. I don't claim to know how all this shit works with our powers, that's supposed to be what you're trying to figure out. But I'm telling you...it's like magnets you know. Pushing each other apart. So that's my explanation, like it or not. At least until I can put my finger on it better. I just think it's going to end bad is all. Can feel that down in my bones."

Davies didn't respond, not at first. She busied herself, plucking a couple of sugar cubes, and stirred them into her cup of darjeeling. Added a bit of milk. Went to the trouble to slowly spread a dollop of clotted cream on her scone. Took a tiny bite, chewed and swallowed.

"We reap as we sow, Nicole. Sometimes we fly into the flame, swearing blind we're trying to avoid it. Think on that, won't you?"

Wright started to rise to her feet. "Yeah. I suppose I just might." She reached out, snagging a scone for herself, taking a vicious bite out of it as she started to depart. "Thanks for tea."

* * *

 **May 2011**

" _Twenty-five whores in the room next door_

 _Twenty-five floors and I need more_

 _I'm looking for a can in the candy store_

 _Two thousand Hamburg four"_

Camilla couldn't help but smile to herself as she watched Max go through her Thai kickboxing routine, the sound of Sisters of Mercy blaring out over the speakers built into the workout room. Clad in little more than a training top and lycra shorts, she had been at it for almost an hour; these sessions had become as much about working out her aggressions and frustrations as anything else, deprived as she was of the usual teenage social and hormonal outlets. It had become as much of a dance as a training exercise, Max jumping around on the mats and bobbing her head in time with the pounding drumline.

She closed her eyes and gave a soft sigh, a flood of memories rushing up to greet her. She was almost exactly Max's age when this album came out. Not long past her own Emergence, and trying to find her way in the world.

 _Except Task Force Excalibur gave me all the tools and resources I could ever want or need to reach my full potential. And they didn't destroy my vital adolescent years while doing it, either._

"You've done some really amazing work with her, Alanna. She's progressed much faster than I would have expected."

Rodriguez was leaning against the glass as she looked out at her pupil. "Yeah. She's pretty crazy awesome. She - ah - she cheats a little, you know? I think she sleeps and then rolls back so she can cram extra hours into the day to keep practicing. Combine that with not having any other time to do things other than train, and anyone who has the discipline can get that good."

A deep frown creased her face, as Camilla said, "I know. I've really tried to tell her that she can't go around burning the candle at both ends that way. She's already pushed her temporal discontinuity out six months; she's actually sixteen now, chronologically.

" _Madre de Dios_ " Rodriguez breathed out. She turned around to address Davies directly. "You know, maybe if she felt like she had a little more to actually live _for?_ Stop, slow down, smell the roses. When was the last time we actually let her out of the base? I've been putting in requests to take her out to Seattle. Or better yet, bring her back home for a week."

"With all due respect, we've made those options unattractive to her: they won't let her go outside without Nicole tailing her, and those two can barely tolerate each other at this point. As for Arcadia Bay, she's outright rebuffed any opportunities to let her go back, and I can't say I blame her. The poor girl feels like she's putting everyone she loves in jeopardy if she visits."

"Yeah," Rodriguez muttered darkly. "From us. Don't know what the hell Martinet's endgame is with all of this."

Before she could answer, Reese walked up, interrupting them both. Camilla turned and got a good look at him in the low light: there was a paleness to his complexion, a gauntness to his face that developed over the past few months.

 _Oh Reese. You came on board right at the turn of the millennium, during the old, true S.O.A.P. days. The organizational transition has clearly been the toughest on you._

"Hey ladies," he said, with a tired note in his voice, but still trying to keep up the front of good cheer. "I've got goodies! Can't believe they actually put a Starbucks franchise inside the base commissary, but hey...smoothies for everyone, right?

He started to hand out drinks, holding a fourth one in reserve, intended for Max, for when she finally emerged from the gym.

Reese paused, listening to the current music track, which had shifted over the past thirty seconds.

"Geezus, that's surreal, watching Max wail on a training dummy in time to...what is that? This Charming Man? Let me guess, you let her into your music collection on the media server?"

Camilla took a sip of her iced chai latte and snorted. "What makes you think it's mine? Just because The Smiths are British?"

"Because not only have I known you over a decade, Cammie, I've seen the actual pictures of you in your goth phase, circa 1992. Anything English and moody, that's all you." Reese gave a half-hearted smirk against the straw in his own drink.

Rodrigeuz's eyes bugged out, and she started to laugh. "Oh! Oh holy...shit, seriously? Damn, _jefa!_ You have to show me sometime, I bet you looked amazing!"

Camilla looked sideways, and hmmmmed. "Perhaps when Halloween rolls around again? We could even push to have a party here at the base; I don't think we've done that sort of thing for at least six or seven years. It might help perk Max's spirits up, if just a little bit, don't you both think?"

"Yes! We have to do that! I've run out of makeup tricks to teach her. This might be the only time she actually gets to show them off."

Reese rolled his eyes. "Yeah. Good luck getting Director Giggles von Laughsalot to sign off on that."

Camilla turned to face him directly. "I can be extremely persuasive when need be, Meredith. You just watch. I'll go and talk to him in the morning. Plenty of time to work out the scheduling and logistics. Catering and...and we'll figure something out."

"Camilla, please. If you can pull that off, I'll get up on stage and willingly sing karaoke."

"Ugh! That's more like a punishment for us, than an embarrassment for you!" Rodriguez chimed, gently punching him in the shoulder.

Reese smirked. "It's why it's an easy bet to lose." Turning back to Max, he gave a low sigh and said. "Well, at least she's getting a decent musical education."

Camilla's lips tugged up in a firm smile. "On that, I must wholeheartedly concur. The music these kids listen to today is appallingly dreadful." She held out a playfully warning finger out in Rodriguez's face, before bopping her on the tip of her nose. The Latina woman was infamous for having a soft spot for Katy Perry and Maroon 5.

Reese stared out into the gym, past Max, out into space. Taking a long, pensive sip of his drink, he murmured, "Would be nice if we could be bothered to let her out of the cage, and have a chance make that decision for herself."

* * *

 _ **A/N:**_ And lo, did the Heavens align, and make it Black Swan Saturday yet again! **Lyta H.** hammers out the words, and **Cory 4.** polishes them up until they sparkle! This week's episode is sponsored by Starbucks! Starbucks: For the day you finally say, "I've stopped giving a fuck about the coffee I drink!"

So I just finished up the draft of...oh gosh, chapter 13 or 14? I can't believe how big the buffer is right now. I'm actually thinking about putting out a Riotgrrls update next week, as well. Depends on the time. The initial plot synopsis is down, and that's always a big first step. But anyhow, Swan Chloe and Max have had what I think is a wonderful Monday - depending on your definition of the word. Can't wait to show it!

Oh, so hey! Shoutouts!

 **RED78910** has started on a new series, doing what he does best, which is making kickass original characters.

 **rowanred81** continues stealing the world's supply of words and putting them into All The Stories, All The Time.

 **NuQueerWarhead** has come out with an awesome new story, which you should go and check out now! She also helped pick out a couple of glaring typos so double points to her House! :-D

And finally, I want to say hi to **PriestessAmy.** I don't think she reads Black Swan, but she's read some of my other stuff, and has been writing some great stories as of late, herself. So check it out.

See you kids next week! Same Swan time, same Swan channel!


	8. Through A Dark And Twisted Jungle

**October 2011**

 _Dear Chloe,_

Max stares down hard at the sheet of paper she's writing on. Another letter to Chloe. Another letter that'll never get sent out. But only because now, she doesn't ever bother to post them.

Even after a year of lies, of being told 'I promise you it went out in the mail. But you know, friends grow apart. Maybe she's just too busy to write back?' or 'Sorry, but the censor couldn't let it go out.', she still did her best, hoping against hope. Sending out a letter at least every month.

That all changed last year, during one of Reese's classes on psychological tactics and manipulation, when the realization struck her like a bolt of lightning.

 _I've been giving the enemy valuable insight into mental state. My vulnerabilities. Shit!_

She stopped sending letters out; but she never stopped writing them.

Nowadays, she retreats to a small, lonesome nook in the machinery sub-basement, where hardly anyone else goes. One small alcove provides her just enough blessed relief from the noise and smell, and keeps her away from everyone else for a while, with the added bonus of a disused but still perfectly functional hatch that leads straight to the incinerator; the ideal place to dispose of her letters once she was done pouring her heart out.

She pauses, gathering her thoughts, then starts writing again.

 _I know you'll never get this but I have to write it. This one's really important._

 _It's been three years now. Almost to the day. When they told me I had to leave town, in order to save it. When they took me away from my parents. My school. The only home I ever knew._

 _When they took me away from you._

 _I just wanted to say...I hate you._

 _I hate you so much right now._

 _This place is the fucking worst! They never let me go out. Maybe once in a while, and I'm always surrounded by asshole guards. And it's always with that bitch Nicole too, because she can stop my powers from working. I mean fuck, you'd think they'd at least let me have a little fun if they can zilch me. But they keep saying they can't take any chances. Treat me like I'm a stupid little kid, worse than that, treat me like I'm a weapon that's inconveniently sentient._

 _I hate the way they're trying to turn me into a good little soldier. I hate the way they're teaching me to fight, and use guns, and be a spy, and all the stuff_ you _thought would be cool and fun to play pretend at when we were kids._

 _Let me tell you something, bitch, the reality sucks! Everybody treats me like I'm a rabid dog that's going to bite them. It's like they can't fucking make up their mind. Am I a person or a weapon? In the end, I guess they figure I'm a gun, and as long as they think they can point me in the right direction, they'll at least be kind enough to keep me oiled and cleaned and kept in the box when they don't need me._

 _But this is all your fault! You and your stupid Dad!_

 _If William hadn't died, and if you could have just sucked it up and not been such a crybaby, I wouldn't have gone back in time. None of this would have happened. I could have had a normal life. And yeah, it would have fucking sucked for you, but you would have gotten over it. You lost your Dad, boo hoo hoo!_

 _I LOST MY WHOLE FUCKING LIFE!_

 _BECAUSE OF YOU!_

 _Because I was stupid and tried to make you happy. Because that's all I ever wanted to do, was making you so happy! And you never appreciated it! Because you never knew!_

The rage swells up in her chest, and she holds it in there, until it threatens to claw it's way out from her.

"I hate you!" she screams out at the paper, before viciously balling it up. She then bursts into sobs, thinking back on everything she just wrote. Holding her face in her hands.

"I miss everything about you." she whimpers out.

* * *

 **November 2011**

Camilla glided smoothly into Martinet's office, hands held tightly behind her back. Her face was as placid as the calm ocean before the storm, but the steel in her eyes was infinitely more dangerous. She stepped up straight to the Director's desk.

Martinet glared up at her, clearly in the middle of something and not pleased at being interrupted.

"Agent Davies, you will knock first and wait for me to answer before simply barging. You may be the head of Field Operations, but..."

With barely constrained anger, she cut him off, "Did you know about this, Paul? Of course you did, silly question. The buck does, after all, stop with you."

"Well, perhaps if you bothered to inform me of whatever 'crime' I should be castigated for?"

"Max. Does she know? Does she have any idea that you've been conducting around-the-clock video monitoring of her private quarters? Is there a reason *I* was never informed about this decision, and most importantly of all, did she ever consent to _any_ of it?"

Martinet removed his glasses and began to wipe them down, a tell that Camilla caught on to when they first met; he was caught off guard.

"Even at Deuteronomy-3, your security clearance hardly makes you privy, let alone a valid contributor to every command decision made by myself and the rest of the leadership in Homeland Security. Now, Agent Wright has been filing a series of status reports. She growing increasingly alarmed about Max's..."

Camilla snorted sharply. "Nicole! Why am I not bloody surprised?"

Martinet's voice countered, taking on a sharper tone, "...about Max's progressively improving abilities, combined with her increasingly rebellious attitude towards her. She requested that we start monitoring Max at all times as a security precaution. Something I was more than happy to grant; hell, the issue came up during the quarterly review with the Secretary of DHS, and _she_ had no problems with..."

Camilla snapped, "Of course she's being bloody rebellious. Of course she is, dammit! She's sixteen; hell, closer to seventeen, biologically! Teenagers are _all_ terrible little shits! It's in their DNA. She and Nicole have been butting heads for well over a year now, and to be perfectly frank, Agent Wright has contributed more than her fair share to antagonizing Max. But being rebellious is what children do when they grow up, they test boundaries, they assert their own identities. Or are we all so pathetically old and frightened that we've forgotten these basics? My God, if anything, I'm shocked that Max isn't _worse_ , so much worse, when you consider the fact that for the past three years, we've more or less held her as a virtual prisoner, and pushed her in ways we barely would considering doing to a first year field recruit!"

Martinet pushed back. "Agent Davies! I appreciate that you and Max are close, but this is no time to allow your feelings to cloud your judgement, with regards to security matters. You of all people should be able to view this situation in the proper logical context!"

"Proper...logical...context?" she tasted each word bitterly in her mouth, disbelieving. "Do you want to hear about what's logical? It's _logical_ that when girls mature into women, their bodies change accordingly. And proper? Oh I'm sorry, what's _proper_ about it then, when I pass by the security office earlier tonight, and discover a couple of the more brutish louts we've hired watching her in the shower?!"

Martinet's face fell, just a touch. A mixture of uncertainty and stubbornness. Camilla could clearly see the realization on her face.

"I...was unaware of this. And - ah - perhaps I should have taken certain more stringent precautions when I ordered the extended monitoring." He turned away from her, in his chair, stalling for time.

"I'm willing to concede when I've made an error." he continued. "We'll make sure that there's only female employees overseeing the feed in the future." He turned back, looked down towards his desk, as if to attempt to declare the matter closed.

Camilla nearly exploded. She had to tense every muscle in her body to cling to control.

"Why am I shocked, yet not surprised? You barely thought of her as a living, breathing person when you ordered the monitoring, and now you think you can simply gloss over this? This treatment is borderline inhuman!"

Martinet answered in a peevish tone, "Look, if you want to review the footage, if that will satisfy these moral pangs you're suddenly suffering from..."

One small but powerful fist slammed onto the polished ironwood surface of his desk, causing any number of picture frames and knick-knacks to shudder.

"Recorded footage? You've been archiving this?" Camilla said, her voice becoming increasingly ragged and emotional. "My God, has it even ever _once_ occurred to any of you what a sixteen year old girl who thinks she at least has private sanctuary in her own room could be doing? Late at night, perhaps? And you had people _watching_?" She started to pace back and forth, ignoring the look of confusion and concern that he leveled on her, as well as the way his hand was straying underneath his desk.

Pointing an accusatory finger at him, she spoke again, in a thick, tight voice, "I've been here a lot longer than you, Paul. I've watched how this organization has changed. How _we_ have changed, especially in the face of our discovery of Max. I've never felt the need to hold my tongue whenever we risk falling off the tightrope in the wrong direction, but I've always stuck by. I may be famous for playing devil's advocate, but there was never any question I've been the _loyal_ opposition all this time" Her eyes grew wide, as her voice grew deadly low.

"But there is one thing I could say about us, at least until tonight: that we most certainly were never CHILD PORNOGRAPHERS!"

Martinet rose up from his desk, an instinctive, self protective reaction, as if ginning up for a physical fight. The pair locked eyes, both breathing through their noses, remaining that way for almost ten full seconds.

It was the Director who spoke first.

"Obviously, I had no idea you felt so...strongly about this. I'm sorry Camilla, but we HAVE to keep tabs on her at all times."

"Fine then!" she huffed through clenched teeth. "I will build whatever sorts of sensors you need. If you're worried about her utilizing her abilities in her room, I'm almost positive at this point that I understand enough of the quantum field effects her powers possess to rig up a sensor grid that immediately signals Wright, who can then lock her down...we can...we..." She petered out, clearly unused to experiencing this level of anger, let alone, holding it back. "One place, Paul. Give her one...damn...place that's sacrosanct. If we treat her like an untrustworthy monster, then that's _exactly_ how she's going to end up behaving. Sooner or later."

Martinet gripped the edge tight, turning his head away to look out the faux-outside display window set into one of the side walls, his jaw clenching and unclenching.

"Fine, Camilla. You win. I'll have them remove the video cameras. You can work with a team to design and install a non-visual sensor network in her quarters. I will even classify the recorded feed material thus far, so no one else can watch it going forward. But under one condition."

"And that is?"

"You do _not_ tell her. You do not tell her that she was ever being watched in that room, nor will you tell her that we are going to continue monitoring her, with far less effective methods going forward. Do you understand?"

Swallowing back against her dry throat, she nodded once. "Fine. If you'll excuse me, I clearly have some work ahead of me, starting with shutting down the video security feed."

Turning on one heel, she made her way out the door, only stopping when Martinet called out.

"You could at least say thank you!"

She didn't turn to look back at him, only saying, in a voice much sadder than before. "I shouldn't have to thank you for not being an irredeemably shitty human being."

"Agent Davies! I won't forget this.. For your sake, I hope she's worth it."

At this, she did turn his head to address him. "This is about so much more than just Max. But for the record, yes. She was. And she always will be, to me."

Camilla prided herself on being able to close the door without slamming it as she exited the office at last.

* * *

 **December 2011**

The air was still, the cold stung her nose and cheeks, as Chloe trudged along the barely cleared sidewalks, slush and snow squeaking and crunching under her boots as she made her way to the house she had spent almost half her childhood growing up in.

 _I don't even know why the hell I'm bothering. I haven't seen her in years. Never sent me a letter after running off to that fancy-shit academy. Why do I even bother...?_

It wasn't true, of course; Chloe knew exactly why she was making her way over to the Caulfields

It was Christmas Eve.

It was Christmas Eve, and her life was just one huge pile of suck at the holidays only served to magnify the effect.

Another fight with Joyce. The freak out over the dye job, over Chloe's hair now being royal blue. The letter from the school confirming that she'd been finally shown the fucking door at Blackwell.

 _Black-HELL! I didn't need that place. I don't fucking need..._

And none of the pathetic excuses for friends she had would have anything to do with her after her expulsion. Well, with the exception of Justin maybe, but he was pretty shitty company sometimes.

Not the mention she already checked his house, and found he was on vacation with his family.

What was it she was looking for, anyhow? A little compassion? Understanding? Someone that she could just...just tell all her troubles to? The past two years had been some of the absolutely worst of her life. She swore that if she couldn't find someone to just cut loose with, one single solitary sympathetic soul, she was going to scream. Cry. Hijack a car and just crash it into something, and be done with this whole waste of time called life!

She was still angry at Max though, after all this time. Furious, really. Abandoned. They were best friends! How the hell could she just run off and leave her like this!?

But there was just something about the way she left. Rushed, hurried, like someone was trying to bundle her up and take her away. She could never get Max's parents to tell her anything detailed about it. It was always, _always_ the same story: Max received an remarkable, once-in-a-lifetime offer to study at an incredibly prestigious private academy that no one had ever fucking heard of whenever she asked around, and whose website barely seemed to ever change.

It just didn't add up. Was it really a school? Or did Max go...crazy. Like was she locked up in a loony bin, and no one wanted to say anything about it? Truth be told, Max _was_ starting to act, like, weirdly manic in the last couple of weeks, but what teenager doesn't sometimes?

She hated to admit it, hated it with a passion.

 _But I miss her. I want her to be there. I need her to be there. Just once. Just tonight. God please. I need someone who can hear me out, and all the shitty things that've happened over the past couple years._

There was a time - and it seemed like so long ago - when they were like sisters. Better than that, really, because most sisters she knew who grew up together were hardly as friendly as the two of them had been. Chloe couldn't explain it, past the deep, instinctive knowledge that Max was comfort. Sanctuary.

Memories flooded her mind, as she took one heavy step after another. Warmer times, happier places. The way Max always saw the good in people, and in the world as well. The way she always put other people's problems before her own, and made it her mission to try and do something about them.

In others it might come off as toadying, or being spineless...obsequious. More than once, when they were younger, Chloe had teased her good naturedly about needing to stand up more for herself, otherwise people would just take advantage of her. Over time, Max did find a way to strike a balance...for the most part.

As much as Chloe always liked watching Max lend a helping hand to others, it was never so precious and special as when she was the one being helped. The way Max made it feel like she was the most important person in the world, when Chloe was having shit days; flubbing a quiz or getting picked on, feeling sick or when her cat died. All it took was one hug...

 _Oh Christ. Just one hug!_

Chloe's eyes began to water, and she wiped them angrily.

She'd changed a lot over the past few years, and no doubt Max had as well.

But there had to be something there, right? An old spark. A little something that could roar again into an inferno of friendship renewed. You didn't spend years and years and years...and years and years on top of that, sharing each other's deepest hopes, dreams, fears. And then find out it was like nothing at all.

She knocked against the door, and then slumped her head forward against the hard, chill wood of the surface.

 _Please Max. If you're there, be happy to see me? Or just...just don't be there at all. Because I couldn't stand to be turned away from you, or treated like...like I'm someone you're trying to forget! Because I don't need that, Max. I don't need your pity, or your scorn, or...because fuck you, Max!_

Chloe bowed her head.

 _I'm sorry..I didn't mean that..._

She gasped, pausing to wipe her face against her jacket sleeve when the door opened up, revealing the happy, smiling face of Vanessa Caulfield. Her auburn hair shot through the strands of silver, Max's parents had a good eight years on Chloe's own, having chosen a later point in life to have a child. The Prices and the Caulfields always seemed to get along well enough, but the two families never stayed all that much in touch after Max departed Arcadia Bay.

"C-Chloe Price? Well, my gosh. Now there's a face I can't remember the last time I saw. How the heck are you doing?"

Chloe swallowed, gave a lopsided smile, and felt all of fourteen again, the guttering light of her remaining naivety desperately trying to twinkle through her red eyes and hardened heart.

"I'm...I'm doing okay, Mrs. C. Yeah, I'm...ah. Merry Christmas, by the way."

"Yes! Merry Christmas. Come here, you."

Chloe accepted the hug. It wasn't the one she wanted, but it helped chase the worst of the weight in her chest.

"Come on in. You must be freezing out there."

Chloe didn't have to be told twice. "Sh..sure. Thanks. I ah...I came over mostly because - I mean - I figured Max would probably be back from school for break?"

Vanessa ignored her, and continued talking. "How's Joyce, dear? And please send her my condolences. Ryan and I are so sorry over your loss. Your father was a good man. Terrible thing to happen. Two years it's been, if I remember?"

Chloe blinked, and then gave a single dumbstruck nod. "Y-yeah. Just a little over that. Anyhow, I'm sorry to bother you, but Ma-?"

"Ryan! Ryan come out from the kitchen, we have a visitor."

"Just a minute! This ham is in desperate need of another coat of glaze. You know how much I hate a dry ham!"

"It's Chloe! Chloe Price!"

"Zoey? I don't think I know a Zoey Feist."

"No you idiot, it's Chloe!"

Vanessa turned, eyes twinkling, a laugh upon her lips. Another few seconds, Max's father emerged from the kitchen, dressed in a "Home Of The Whopper" apron.

"Ha ha! Of course I remember, just foolin', Chloe! Ha! Probably had you going there, huh? Heyyy there. Merry Christmas, c'mere and give me a hug."

Another one accepted politely, given in return. Still not what she was looking for. But the scents in the air, the familiar lingering ones, combined with the old sights, whipped her mind into a furious miasma of nostalgic memory. It made the thought of coming this far and not seeing Max almost unbearable now.

"Hi. Hi yeah. Wow. It's really, g-great to see you both again. But hey, is Max around? I really, I mean, don't take it the wrong way, but I really was hoping to see her."

"Max?" Vanessa asked quizzically, blinking with uncertainty.

"M-mmmmax? Hmmm. Oh! Oh, yes. Of course. Max."

"Uhh. Yeah. You know. I figured she had to be back home from school and everything."

"From...school?" Vanessa continued, still unsure.

"Yes. Oh for...for pete's sake, Vanessa. You remember. Max is at the Zion Academy still."

Chloe could almost hear the snap go off in the other woman's brain, like two gears with clashing threads suddenly locking back into place, however imperfectly.

"Right." Vanessa said the word slowly, as if uncertain of the meaning. Then kicked back up into full bloom and follow it up again with greater convenience. "Right! Of course. Hah. But..ah. Oh. Chloe. I'm sorry, she's not here. I think?"

"Are you sure? I could have sworn I thought, I saw..." Ryan rubbed his chin, then adjusted his glasses, squinting his eyes as he struggled to recall.

 _Ooookay. This. This right here is getting seriously creepy. Mayybe...oh shit! Did I catch them totally baked or something?_

Chloe sniffed hard at the air.

 _O-M-G! Totally! They're...oh no. Wait...oh shit, that's my jacket. Damn!_

"No. No. No, I'm certain that she...Oh...Chloe. Why don't you...check her bedroom? If you see her, tell her dinner will be ready soon." Vanessa said.

Chloe nodded and slowly backed away. "Okay. Be back in just a minute."

She practically flew up the stairs, unsure what was driving her harder: the possibility of a reunion with Max, of the increasingly instinctive need to remove herself from the discussion, and how intensely creepy it was becoming.

When she opened the door, and crossed the threshold into Max's bedroom, it felt like stepping back in time. The place was untouched, left almost exactly as she remembered three years earlier. She reached out, swiping a couple of fingertips against the dresser, startled by how thick the dust had become.

"Okaaaay. Shit." Chloe murmured low, speaking mostly to hear herself talk. "This. So hella fucked up."

If Max was ever here for a visit...well...no. No, it was obvious. The room had become a virtual crypt, sealed away from the ages.

The air hung heavy with memory, nostalgia. As she took the time to poke and prod through her bookshelves, closets and drawers - just looking for clues to what happened to Max, of course - Chloe smiled sadly to herself.

 _Oh man, here's the picture of us as pirates! Arr! We be Mighty!_

And then there was the picture of them cosplaying as Batgirl and Supergirl.

" _BatWOMAN!" Chloe corrected, when asked about it, Halloween 2007. "She's new, and her hair is red and short, and she's awesome. She's even better than Batman!"_

God, those costumes were awesome. She and Max worked so hard on them.

The room was just bursting with fragments of the past, a veritable hall of memory. But there was nothing here as to where Max had gone, or why she'd left so fast.

 _Why the hell would Max's folks even think she was ever here, when it's clear she isn't. What...what the fuck is going on?_

Just as she was about to leave, Chloe noticed an old familiar doll. One given a special place of honor on the top of the clothing bureau.

"Helloooo..." she murmured. "What are _you_ doing here?"

She gave a crooked grin.

 _Shit. Is that...Jem? I can't...ha ha! I can't believe she kept it. After all these years._

 _Well Jem, seeing as how you brought me and Max together, you definitely need better digs than this. I'm sure Max wouldn't mind you coming home with me. You're too damn special to be locked away in this..."_

Dungeon? Tomb?

Oubliette.

A place where things end up, to be forgotten.

"C'mon Jem. Time for us ladies to get the hell out of this place."

Chloe trudged back down the stairs, tucking the doll away in her jacket beforehand.

"Hey." She quietly called out. "So...uhh...Max wasn't in her room? I mean...is she in the house somewhere else?"

Vanessa had a faraway look in her eyes. "She's. Not here. What was it again? A v-vacation, was it?"

"Right. Ohhhh yes. It's coming back to me now. Oh goodness, how could we have forgotten? She spent weeks practically begging us to let her go to...oh." he started to snap his fingers. "Where was it? Oh Gosh. It's right on the tip of my tongue."

"Tahiti." Vanessa said, with a faraway look in her eyes.

"Tahiti! Oh. Yes! Yes." He made a triumphant fist in the air and waved it near his face. "Tahiiiti. Right. Oh Chloe. Ha. Vanessa and I spent our honeymoon there."

"It's a magical place!" they both intoned together, sing-song.

"It was part study opportunity too, right? Something to do with whale research?" the older woman asked.

 _What? I thought Max said she wanted to go to Blackwell and study photography. Sheeesh. Maybe the day we went and saw the beached whales really got to her._

"Oh. Maybe? I can't...really remember. But there was something about going with a boyfriend." Ryan responded.

"What? No. I remember it was a girlfriend."

Vanessa then snorted. "Maybe both."

Ryan tilted his head back in good natured amusement. "Ah, that might have been it. Maybe both. Hey Chloe, that's okay. We know we're old, and you kids are progressive these days. Whatever makes you happy, right?"

 _What? The actual? Fuck?_

There was something setting Chloe's teeth on edge, making the hairs on the back of her neck rise up.

She needed to get the hell out. This place was seriously creeping her out.

No, not the place.

The people.

"Um...you know what? Mr and Mrs. C. I am SO sorry, but, I forgot...I need to get something for my Mom. Like cranberry sauce from the Circle K. My Mom bought the world's smallest turkey I swear, and I need to get something for it. So uh...just tell Max I said hi, and I'll see you around, okay? Maybe tell her to write me?"

"Oh. Oh okay. Sure Chloe. Nice seeing you. I'll let...let..her..."

"Max...yes. We'll let her know. Good seeing you again, kiddo."

Chloe turned away, and exited as quickly as propriety would allow, the glazed, half-confused expressions of the Caulfields haunting her.

She made her way to the Two Whales. They'd be closing soon, another hour, closing early for the holiday, but she could at least take some comfort in a rear booth. Nursing a coffee, and desperately hoping for it to chase the chill from more than just her bones.

 _What the hell is going on? It's like they were fucking lobotomized or something. I mean, they seemed okay otherwise, but when they started to talk about Max?_

She stopped herself, and then shook her head, frowning.

 _You're reading into shit, Chloe. Fuck, for all I know, they were baking up. Couple of old school hippies, and now they've got an empty nest. Yeah, you know, now that I think of it, I'm pretty damn sure that Ryan's eyes were totally bloodshot. Probably got into some pot brownies or something._

It was easier for Chloe to imagine Max the way her parents had described. Off in the tropical sun, combining work and pleasure. Far away in some exotic locale that might as well be another planet. Another life. Laughing and playing and...

She snorted and rolled her eyes at the thought of her sucking face with a boyfriend. Max was always so shy around boys. Didn't seem to have the least amount of interest in them. Of course, she was a year younger than Chloe, barely thirteen when she went away.

But the flash of Max in an intimate embrace with another girl suddenly burned through Chloe's brain, prompting a hard, sharp twist in her sternum. She shook her head to clear it, and took a hard slug of her coffee.

 _Another...another new friend. Best friend. Probably laughing it up, about her stupid, dumb friends that she was happy to leave behind, because now she's with all the smart, rich, cool kids at her fucking fancy academy, and you can just FUCKING GO TO HELL, MAX CAULFIELD! I'm done with you! I don't care if I ever hear from you again, because you just...just are the fucking worst! Bitch! Whore! I hope I never see you again, hope you fucking drown or something in shitty Tahiti._

She choked back a sob, wiping her eyes for the third time in the past hour, and allowed a soft, watery "Damnit, Max." escape into the night air.

"Hey, is this seat taken?"

Chloe nearly jumped out of her booth, glancing up at the other girl sliding into the space across from her.

"What? Fuck. No, no, Jesus! Don't just...fucking sit down at someone's booth like that. Shit, almost gave me a heart attack."

"Well sooooohhhreee. You just looked miserable and alone over here, and since there's no one else in this place, I thought you might like the company or something." She sounded put out, whoever she was, but the smile on her face told a different story. A smile framed by curtains of silky blonde hair, ears sporting charming little snowflake earrings, and a make-up job that screamed 'I'm so good at this, I spent an hour doing my face up to look like I barely spent any time at all. I'm just naturally this perfect.'

"Yeah well...well fuck you for being right. I am pretty miserable and alone." She laughed and shook her head. "Don't even know why I fucking said that right now."

The other girl gave a soft laugh, rest her chin on her fist, elbow perched on the edge of the table. "Heyyyy. I know you. Chloe Price, yeah? You're like a year ahead of me."

"Yeah." Chloe admitted softly. "I WAS."

"Oh...oh shit! I heard you weren't coming back? Was it because of what you did to Mr. Snook? Ha ha! Oh...oh...God. Really?" Rachel's initial mirth died off as she saw the look on Chloe's face. "Geezus, really? What, just for that one little prank, which, by the way, he totes deserved."

Chloe sniggered, and gave a slow shrug. "Oh, that was just the frosting on the shit cake that was my career at Blackhell. They were looking for an excuse. I'm just...you know...too much woman for a place like that to handle."

Rachel laughed, warm and rich. "You're funny. And I love your hair, did you just do that? I mean, I think you had little bits of blue before, but daaaamn. It's fantastic now, going the whole way?"

Chloe reached up, removing her beanie, and letting the other girl get a full look. "Y-yeah. Just did it earlier tonight."

This prompted a double-thumbs up reaction from the other girl.

"Hey. Sorry, this is pretty shitty for me to fess to, but I don't remember your name."

"Oh! It's Rachel. Rachel Amber."

Chloe smiled. "Rachel Amber? Is that like...your whole name? Or is it Rachel Amber something something? You know, like Rachel dash Amber, like you have one of those names that's two names joined as one?"

Rachel laughed again, "Ha ha! Jesus, I can't believe you're the first person to ever ask me that. No, it's just Rachel Amber. Amber, last name. Although my middle name is Dawn."

"Dawn, huh? Like the sunrise?"

She looked down and grinned. "Something like that."

"Hey, so...uh...so why are you out here?"

"Why are you?"

Chloe frowned lightly. "The less I'm actually home, the better. Now you."

Rachel leaned in, brushing her hair back across one ear, and murmured low, "Well...buy me a cup of coffee, and maybe I'll tell you."

* * *

 **January 2012**

Max dreamt of the dark, twisted jungle, and the veldt that lay somewhere beyond it.

 _Here, in twilight realms of slumber-borne fantasy, she is Maxima, the warrior girl. A modern day, Sheena, clad in leopardskin and whipcord thongs. Bracelets and necklaces of the teeth of her slain prey adorn her. She clutches the flint knife in her hand, her only power against the evils of the jungle that has entrapped her, save her own natural grace, cunning, and beauty._

 _For so long she has tried to escape. Each time she makes the attempt, the trees grow taller, thicker; they display a malevolence that both confuses her and chills her to the soul. Worse yet, there are so many places for the creatures of the jungle to hide, waiting for the right moment to strike. To halt her flight, to drag her back deep into the heart of forested labyrinth._

 _She's been held captive here, for God knows how long. All she knows is that she has come to hate this place as much as it despises her in return._

 _She swings through, vine to vine to vine, managing to wrench herself free, twist and dodge as they spring to life and attempt to ensnare her. Twisted, apelike creatures snort and howl, lines of drool running off their snouts. She slashes out with her blade, drawing blood from severed arteries. Plunging it in their bellies and dragging out chunks of viscera._

 _But worst of all of the creatures in the jungle is the Ebon Viper. Her eternal foe. The spiteful, cruel serpent, whose venom is the only thing that can ultimately render Maxima powerless. There is no fighting her, only fleeing._

 _And this time, she is going to make it. She just believes. She HAS to, this time. She doesn't know how long she can stay here, living like this; drinking the jungle's fetid water, choking on its poison fruit._

 _She is sailing now, having caught just enough momentum, arcing gracefully over the tree tops..._

 _...and as before, she is stopped. Giant raptors snatch at her arms. Vines, taking on life of their own, again drag her back. Back towards the Viper and her fangs._

 _But tonight is different._

 _The vultures are quickly dispatched. The vines slashed through with a steel machete._

 _Hanging from a rope ladder that seems to go absolutely nowhere - as if its placement is entirely determined by the fact that it is thematically correct, and for no other reason - is a roguish, charming girl. Just a bit older. With jaunty fedora, brown cotton shirt and matching khaki pants, battered leather bombers jacket pulling the enter ensemble together._

 _It's Oregon Price!_

 _Maxima isn't sure how she knows the name, only that this is the girl she's been waiting for the whole time._

 _Chloe lets loose with her whip, grabbing Max, and swinging them both down into the open field. With it's blue skies, gentle, warming sun, and birds singing their songs of victory._

 _But still they must run. They must hide, for the forest will not give up its playthings so easily._

 _Chloe takes her by the hand and they run as fast and as far as their feet will take them. All the way to a rock cliff, with an open cave._

 _Inside the cave they flee, hoping to find refuge from their pursuers; throw them off the scent._

 _It's dark inside, but Maxima is not afraid. She finds it warm. Comforting. Almost like the womb. Though there are no artificial lights to be seen, everything is lit by some sort of ambient torchlight._

 _They hold each other, hearts beating, but second by second, a sense of peace and comfort envelops them. A growing certainty that they have finally secured their freedom at last. That this is the end of Maxima's terrible captivity, and the future now belongs to the both of them, to be written with as much adventure and excitement as the pair care to pour into it._

" _You...you saved me!" Maxima breathes out._

 _Chloe tilts up the rim of her hat, cocks her head to the side, gives a confident nod._

 _The urge to thank her savior fills Maxima's breast. Ideas fail to come to mind, and she does only what she knows best; follows her instinct and her heart._

 _Hands fall upon Chloe's shoulders. She tilts her head in, lips pressing firmly against her savior's. It's sweeter than she ever dreamed._

Max woke with a start and a gasp. Curled up in a fetal position, she murmured out sleepily.

"Chloe?"

She thought...for a moment...she saw her? Or that she was here?

Max turned around and closed her eyes, instinctively trying to return to the dream that she completely forgets about by the morning.

* * *

 _ **A/N:**_ Yo yo! It's Black Swan Saturday, Swan-ketteers! :D

An extra 80 points to House Bearglove, because **Corentin IV** worked extra hard to help me correct a few small but significant issues with this chapter, and also pushed me to really add lot more depth and punch to it. She is just totally the best!

Speaking of Jem and the Holograms, have any of you checked out the new reboot comic? It is, far and away, the BEST reboot of an 80's property that I've ever seen, and I just absolutely adore it. Especially because Stormer and Kimber are gay and dating, *THE WAY GOD INTENDED*

Anyhow, just a heads up: Things in my life are going a bit crazy. That goes quadruplely so for Cory. While I've got seven more first drafts of material written, stuff needs a lot of editing and revision; more importantly, I'm taking some time to talk deep and serious with her about some of the more complex plotting and stuff going on in the background B story, the stuff that's happening while Max and Chloe are busy being awesome together. I need to make sure it works, and I've kind of hit a point where I need to figure it out before I can write any further. So...my apologies, but we may start missing our usually brisk and reliable once-a-week deadlines, but fear not! We shouldn't be too behind schedule, I imagine.

Thanks again, everyone for all your kind support and words thus far. It means a lot to both of us.


	9. Portrait Of A Stolen Childhood

**February 2012**

Camilla sighed for the umpteenth time as she waited, slumping heavily in her leather upholstered chair; her large office not only dripped with refined, expensive taste, but also showcased someone with a raging obsessive-compulsive disorder when it came to their personal space..

She most definitely did not relish the discussion she was about to have, but as the head of Field Operations, the responsibility fell onto her. She only hoped that what discovered was not nearly as terrible as some of the possibilities her darker thoughts conjured up; her temper was still raw and jangled after the falling out she had with Martinet over the violation of Max's privacy.

But this...this seemed so much worse. Still, she suspected - hoped - Reese had much kinder intentions.

If not, she was prepared to terminate him. Quite possibly in the literal sense of the word.

There was a knock on her office door.

"Come in."

Reese opened the door, shoulders slumped, and head hung as he walked in. A bearing not so much guilty as simply...battered.

 _Like a man who's been carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders for far too long._

He sat himself down at her desk without being asked, an informality that he had earned through years of working with her.

"What can I do you for, bosslady?" he quietly asked.

It was clear from his demeanor that he knew exactly what was coming.

Leaning in, and fixing him with a hard, but neutral stare, she began, "I'll come right out with it, Meredith. Max. Her memories. Have you ever tampered with them?"

He exhaled out: long, heavy, laborious. Paused overlong, before reaching into his jacket pocket, and pulled out a small bottle of prescription pills. "Why yes. Yes I have, Camilla." he said in a tone filled with half-playful bravado, half tired relief. "And if you would kindly pour me a glass of water, we can have a talk that is...way, way overdue."

Camilla stood, walking over to the mini fridge, and grabbed a bottle. He nodded his thanks, unscrewing the top, popping three pink pills into his mouth, and chugged all the water, forcing it down his gullet.

"Hah. Appropriate. Time for my damn ulcer medication. And now we get to talk about the reason for it."

"This is nothing to make light of, Meredith!" she spoke, warningly. Her tone rose, quiet but still threatening, "I'm sick to death of people taking advantage of Max. I'm tired of discovering how people in this organization are exploiting and abusing the poor girl, and..."

Reese snapped back, clearly on hair-trigger, "Well I am too! Okay? Fucking shit, I am tired of it too!"

Camilla didn't rear back, but didn't let up, "Then _why?_ Why did you do it? I mean, clearly they were small changes. It actually took me a while to figure it out. Luck really, when I found out that Max's recollection of one of the experiments they've put her through didn't seem to match. I had to check on a few things, rule out every possibility that it was anything other than...than you using your abilities on her."

He spoke through clenched teeth, "Yeah. Yeah, let me guess. September of 2010? With the rabbits?"

She narrowed her eyes, breathed in hard through her nose. "Yes."

"Yeah! Yeah I...I found her. Afterwards. Curled up, in one of the alcoves. Crying. Because of what they did to her." Reese didn't look directly at her now, but she could see a dark anger slowly boiling in his eyes. "Because of what they made her do, _tricked_ her into. That poor, poor kid."

He grit his teeth, then continued, "And you and I both know what the fuck those experiments were for. I mean, Jesus, kid barely turned fifteen, and they were already prepping her for potential wet work. Which _we_ shouldn't be fucking doing. Ever." He shook his head, then looked out with a thousand-yard stare. "I...it just happened. It was an emotional reaction. I didn't do much, just tweaked it. Took the worst of the sting away."

A hand full of manicured nails came up, covering Camilla's face, as her head shook. "Oh...Meredith. This has always been your problem. Believe me, I understand that you have the best of intentions, but your impulse control is a bit la-"

"I know! I know, I know. Road to hell and all that." he interjected. "I know that my 'good intentions' is what got Barbara hurt, and why I ended up here in the first place. But you..." he shook his head, and thrust out an accusatory finger, his voice trembling. "We're not all real life Vulcans like you, Cammie. The rest of us just can't stand around and watch what's happening and not react!"

There was a hint of pain across her face, a soft raggedness in her voice as she paused for a few seconds, before remarking, "You can't...this has to stop, Reese."

"Yes!" he hissed out through his teeth again. "This has to stop. WE!" And with that he rose to his feet. "We need to be stopped! I don't know who, or how, but someone has to stop us. Someone needs to look around, and see how...how evil we've become! Every day, I wake up hoping that sanity will prevail and that this'll all end. That we'll get down on our knees at long, long last." He reached up, covering his eyes momentarily. "and beg that poor girl to forgive us for what we've done to her. For what we continue to do to her now."

He turned away from the desk, rose up and started to pace, his hands alive with motion as he ranted, "And I don't mean just directly to her alone. You...you've seen my reports. About Max's parents? About the state of their minds after I visited them this past Christmas, you know? For their seasonal dose of forget-Max juice? And now they don't need me anymore; hell, as long as Max never goes back home again, they'll probably go through life never remembering they ever _had_ a daughter. I warned the brass..."

"I...I know Reese. I've backed those reports. I've agreed with you all the way..." she said, with a conciliatory tone.

"But you didn't stop them!" he snarled out, wheeling around and pointing an accusatory finger towards her. He then dropped his trembling hand, and deflated somewhat. "And maybe you couldn't, God knows you went to bat and stuck your neck out for Max with Martinet a couple months ago, and for that I am eternally grateful. But you didn't have to go, under orders, and kill Max in their minds. Watch the cascade effect. See how she dies in their memory. But it...it's not too late. They can be saved, I know they can. _You_ can save them! You're...you're the fucking smartest woman in the Western Hemisphere!"

"Reese, I'm sorry. I know this has been a tremendous strain on us all, but you need to calm down for a moment..."

"Every! Day!" His voice was lava hot, knocking off the empty water bottle from the desk onto the floor, petulantly. "We violate her! Every day! We add a few more brush strokes to this portrait of a stolen childhood that we're painting. A childhood that she will never, ever get back!"

He deflated as quickly as he exploded, meandering back into the chair in front of her desk, hunched over.

His voice was small, tears starting to flow in earnest. "Y-y'know? I'm glad you caught me. I'm glad you forced this out. Because I can't do this any more. I can't...be here, any more. And I'm sorry, maybe that makes me a coward...no. No it definitely makes me a coward. But I can't stay here, and watch what we're doing to her. What we're making. What we're letting her discovery turn this organization into" He shook his head and then wiped his eyes.

"You know, there was a time I loved to be here. Huh. One of the good guys. Like a superhero. I know I always go 'ahh ahh. I hate that term, I hate it.'. But I remember that first day that I met Max, and then the days immediately afterwards, when she was so convinced she was going to go out and save the world like Wonder Woman."

He shook his head, both sad and incredulous, "God, that kid. Too good to be true. All she wanted to do was run off and save the world. And now, she needs a hero. She needs to be saved. From us."

Camilla reached out, laying a hand on Reese's arm, pleased that he didn't flinch away.

"Mere. I didn't...I should have seen how bad it was getting. And for that I'm sorry. But I must confess, I'm surprised you simply haven't left DI at this point."

He snorted, shook his head, "Leave? Right, where do I go?" He paused for a moment, and then groaned, "I suppose, when you get right to it, there's plenty of opportunity for a guy like me, if he can shrink his conscience small enough to fit it into a bathtub and drown it." Looking back up, he added, "You're not an idiot, Davies. You know how this plays if I ask to 'leave'. Sure sure, off they let me go, gold watch and everything. Six months later, I'm dead of a self-inflicted gunshot wound. Or...or a car crash. Isn't that how we do it these days? Mysterious car crash? I end up a statistic on some conspiracy website?"

Camilla closed her eyes tightly, briefly envying Max, as she wished she could stop, or at least roll back time, give herself a few extra seconds to think. Regardless, a plan quickly arose in her mind.

"I have an idea, Meredith. There's an opening. In Japan. I've been pushing Martinet to cozy up with Rising Sun, and it's finding fertile ground. We need a small liaison team to staff a DI branch office. To be blunt, you weren't exactly on my short list; at the same time, you're not unqualified either. But it would mean essentially giving up your life here and making a five year commitment."

He nodded, so slowly, as if all his remaining energy had been expended in his outbursts. "Th-thank you, Camilla." he said, so tiredly. "Seriously, thank you. I didn't...really have much of a life to speak of here anyhow. Japan sounds, intriguing at any rate." Slowly pulling himself back up in his chair, he added. "More importantly: it's far away. But I won't forget this. I mean, we've been close teammates for years now, and I know I've taken a bullet for you on at least one occasion but." He blinked, petering out, before repeating. "I won't forget this."

"You don't...I don't think you owe me any gratitude, Mere. But yes. I think it would be better if you stayed within the system." She leaned back in her chair, narrowing her eyes, "This situation with Martinet is going to come to a head. Not today. Not tomorrow, but I don't see how this continues indefinitely." She paused to steeple her fingers. "Ah, the only real complication to getting you the Japan posting is that it'll take me a couple of months. I need to work on the Director a bit. Make him think it was his idea all along."

"Could help you with that, you know." Reese mumbled.

Camilla shook her head sharply, frowning. "You don't mean that, Mere."

He fixed a hard stare on her. "For that son of a bitch? Don't be so sure." His face then softened. "But okay. Two months? Yeah. I can...I can make that. Now that I know a way out is coming. Plus it gives me time. There's something I want to do for Max. Two months should be enough."

As he started to rise up from the desk, Camilla kindly chastised him. "Don't push it, Reese. I mean it. Don't go out in a blaze of glory, not when I'm about to spend yet another share of my ever shrinking political capital, only to muck it up."

Giving a crisp, albeit mocking salute, Reese replied, "No ma'am! I promise. I'll be a good boy from this day on." He then groaned, gripping at his abdomen. "Fuck. Uh. If you'll excuse me." He turned away from her, starting to depart from the office. Stopped, turned and said, "She's going to need you more than ever, Camilla. You and Rodriguez. You two are the only friends she really has left in this place, once I'm gone. Everyone else either humors or gives her a wide berth and Nikki? Don't know what's up her ass. I'm...I'm sorry I'm not strong enough. To be the hero she needs."

With that, he was gone.

Half an hour and half a bottle of whiskey later, Davies found herself standing before her picture shelf, staring at an old framed color photo in her hands. A smiling, happy, seventeen year old version of herself, still spotty, in braces, and holding a thumbs up, posing in front of the rest of her far older teammates.

The caption underneath read: "S.O.A.P Archives - Doctor Camilla Davies and team, Project Opticon. Inaugural Design Kickoff, Planetary Awareness Network, 9/1993"

"Not so smart now, are we?" she asked herself.

Placing it back on the shelf with precise care, and lowering herself back into her seat, she drained the rest of her glass, and then opened up a new window on her computer screen. One that was heavily encrypted.

A few minutes later, a connection was established with the other side.

 **GAKUSHA: Konbonwa, Cammie-chan.**

 **SAVANT: No time for flirtation tonight, Shimiko.**

 **GAKUSHA: Business then?**

 **SAVANT: Chess.**

 **GAKUSHA: Of course. And which of our twenty concurrent games shall we continue with?**

 **SAVANT: #8675309**

 **GAKSHUA: I see. It has been some time since you made a move on that board. I seem to recall making the opening play.**

 **SAVANT: I needed time to weigh my potential options.**

 **GAKUSHA: I understand. What is your next move?**

 **SAVANT: Queen to Knight 4.**

 **GAKUSHA: I see. And you are sure? This is the move you wish to proceed with?**

 **SAVANT: Yes. It would seem I'm losing too many pieces from the board. Time to shake things up.**

 **GAKUSHA: There are some that would consider it an illegal move.**

 **SAVANT: Doesn't mean it's not a good one. The right one.**

 **GAKUSHA: At the very least, we agree it is a bold gambit. Perhaps we could continue this game offline?**

 **SAVANT: Say, in two months time? It looks like I may be taking a trip to RS. With one of the new liaison staff. He is...quiet the chess player himself.**

 **GAKUSHA: Hmm. I see. The cherry blossoms will be in bloom then. And I think I can get a bottle of that sake you are so fond of.**

 **SAVANT: ...Did I not mention no flirting? :-)**

 **GAKUSHA: Your fingers say one thing, your emoji, another.**

 **SAVANT: Hah, very well then! We shall see you in April.**

 **GAKUSHA: I look forward to it. Ja nye.**

 **SAVANT: Cheerio.**

* * *

 **APRIL 2012**

"I...I can't believe you're really going away! I didn't want to believe it, I mean."

Max and Reese stood together in one of the transit lobbies, waiting for Davies to come and take him away on their trip to Japan.

He bowed his head, and then looked up, trying to give her a brave smile. "Yeah. Yeah well...times change, kiddo. People change. Situations open up. I mean...I mean even _your_ life is gonna change. You won't be down here forever. I-I promise you that much."

She frowned and turned away. "Sure fucking feels that way. If it was anyone else but you saying that, I totally would call bullshit. And even you...even you're running away from this place now! From me!"

Reese turned away, cut to the quick. Max swiftly looked to soften the blow, and whispered, "I'm...I'm sorry, that was a shitty thing to say. I just...you're one of the only friends I have left, and I'm losing you. This place just keeps taking and taking from me. But anyhow...I didn't mean it. After all the shit they put me through, they made your life almost as bad, I figure. With...with my parents...and."

She bit her lip hard, trying to choke back the lump forming in her throat. She really was going to miss him. Even after he confessed part of the reason why he was leaving, what he did to her memories. She couldn't stay angry at him, especially not when she took into account the truth he was trying to protect her from.

"Yes, Max. You do. Because it's the truth. I'm..." he winced, as if swallowing something bitter, and shook his head. "I'm...God. Leaving you alone with Nikki for two weeks."

"Yeah, Agent Wright, who fucking hates me! It wouldn't be so bad, but Alanna is off on vacation."

"Well look, don't worry, Davies had a nice long chat with Wright. About behaving. And Villanova promised to spell so much girly time with you, and then there's Albertson, and you get along with him too, right?"

Max shrugged, "They're okay I guess. Kimmy...well, she can be fun. Yeah. Albertson puts up with me. The others though? I'm not stupid. I can see. All these people don't like me. Act like I'm some kind of mo- like I'm a freak. Like they can fucking talk."

Reese said nothing to that. After a few seconds, he gripped her shoulders and leaned in, whispering, "Max. Listen to me very carefully. I have a gift for you. I made it myself. But it's not a physical thing. I couldn't risk it being something they could take away from you, or break or...but I have to ask you to trust me. If you never do so again, I need you to believe me when I tell you that I'm giving you only a good thing. Please."

She blinked, uncertain at the sudden descent into seriousness. She pulled back a bit and nods. "I trust you, Reese. You're one of the few I do."

Nodding, he pulled her close, as if embracing her farewell, and whispered. "Here it comes. Try not to act so surprised, when it's over. They're watching us."

There was a curious tingling sensation that ran up her spine, then pooled into her brain. Like a tunnel opening up into her mind, Max suddenly found herself splashing deep into memory...

 _She looks out through eyes that are not her own. Sees Meredith in the mirror, a shy, soft smile on his face._

" _Hi Max. Welcome to your gift. I'm taking a couple weeks off, before I go to Japan. Two weeks in which I am going to have the time...of your life!" He points at himself/herself in the mirror._

" _Twenty four hours of the best highlights. I hope you enjoy it. Hope it makes the days to come bearable for you. It's the least I can do for you now. The very least."_

 _A quick flash, and she's running free on the beach, in his body, the sand underneath their toes, the sun on their face, the water splashing, cool and clean on their legs. "California, huh? Right? Good start, yeah?" he says to himself. Then dives into the water and swims, smashing through waves. Picking up colorful shells and studying them for a while. Renting a jet ski and cruising back and forth. The jet ski picks up speed, going faster and faster..._

 _...suddenly she's on a rollercoaster, inside, along for the ride._

" _Oh God! Maaaaax!" He's screaming out to himself. People must think he's a madman. "Did I mention that I hate these thiiiiings?! Never...never trusted them OH GOD!"_

 _Loops and inversions, twists and turns. Her stomach is tied up in knots. She feels the bile rise to her throat..._

 _...the taste of which is replaced by the two-in-one of them munching away on a deep dish pizza. Addressing himself to a mirror, he says, "Chicago. Max, when you get out, you HAVE to go to Chicago. Really excellent deep dish. Accept no substitutions." They eat. They wash it down. All manner of foods and drinks. The different gourmet highlights become some of her absolute favorites, of this whole experience._

 _Suddenly she is sitting in a chair. Watching exotic dancers. Of the male variety. Feels the blood rise to her cheeks. He's looking down in the reflection of the table and says, "When I was a kid, I had Skinnymax movies to get me through puberty. You don't even have the Internet. Just the crippled version they give you. Um...I'm assuming you like guys? I hope so, because this is really creepy and weird for me, no matter how you slice it. But if it gets your motor running, you are more than worth it, kiddo._

 _After a few minutes, the scene shifts. More dancers. Different venue. Female. Meredith is obviously having a better time of it. Max is more intrigued this go around. There's arousal, and she can't say exactly which source it's coming from: him or her._

" _Hey! I have no idea how you're gonna end up swinging kid, so I'm letting you pick and choose. However you go with it, you do what makes you happy. Because that's all that counts in life, Max. You make you happy!" A topless waitress looks over at him/her. Assuming they're drunk._

 _It's hours of eating junk food, and playing video games. Reading comics, and watching baseball games, and betting on blackjack. Meredith lives for both of them, pushing himself to the limit: bungie jumping, hang gliding. Overcoming his fears, for her sake._

 _Her eyes tear up, as she sees her parents. But not in the same house she grew up in. She's watching through Reese's eyes, in a car from across the street. They're outside, preparing for the spring garden. It must have been only few days ago._

" _They're safe, Max. I promise you. We just moved them to rural Washington last month, to keep a closer eye on them. I...I wish I could go see them for you. But...I'm sorry. I can't...because you don't want to see them, Max. Not after what they did to them. Not after what *I* did to..."_

 _He looks away, unable to finish._

 _The hours spiral on._

 _Twenty four hours of ups and downs, lefts and rights, chills, spills and thrills._

 _The final hour consists of a tour of her old haunts in Arcadia Bay, and a few places she's never been inside. Meredith drinks enough for both of them. Max can't stand the taste of the alcohol, but understands the appeal of drinking once the warm giddiness sets in._

 _It's late at night, near the end, and Reese is soaking up what booze remains in his bloodstream with eggs, toast and coffee. She knows the place well._

 _The Two Whales._

 _He stares at the cloudy drink in his mug, at his wavering reflection, and whispers low, "Max. Let me leave you with one last bit of advice: Life shouldn't be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in a pretty and well preserved body. When the end finally finds you, whatever and whenever that may be, the last thing you should be saying is, 'Wow! What a ride!'_

 _His eyes dart up, and focus on one bluenette, sitting by herself in a booth at the back._

" _Oh...oh shit. That's her."_

 _Max can feel the indecision. The famous Reese tendency to get carried away, go with the moment._

 _They rise up, coffee cup in hand, and slide down in the booth across from her._

" _Are...hey. Are you uh...Chloe Price?"_

 _The woman across from then narrows her eyes suspiciously. Cants her head to the side. "Maybe? Who the hell are you?"_

 _A long pull of coffee is had, and then Reese finds a little more of that courage he's so convinced he's surrendered. "I'm...yeah. My name's...Harold. Vakarian. I'm...I'm an instructor at a school in Seattle. Max Caulfield is in my history class."_

 _Her scowl softens, just a bit. Curiosity gets the better of her, but she still regards him with deep-seated suspicion. "Oh yeah? Huh. That's nice."_

" _She...uh. She talks about you, you know? All the time."_

 _This does get her honest attention. Her guard drops, if just a touch._

" _No...no shit. I...well I just figured she forgot about me. I mean hell, she talks about me like I'm so great, then she should find the time to write, or call, stop doing whatever it is that's so awesome in her life and let me back into it?"_

 _Max can feel the tears starting to well up, behind eyes that aren't her own._

" _NO...no no no. Oh God...no. Please. You have no idea. None. Whatsoever. It's..." He drains the mug. "Chloe this. Chloe that. This one time, Chloe and I...and did I ever tell you how we met? And I wish Chloe were here, she'd really be interested in that, and..."_

 _He suddenly chokes back a hard sob, trying to hold it together._

 _Chloe's confused. So uncertain now. "Hey. Shit, dude. Are you okay?"_

 _He shakes his head, his facade crumbling, in the face of his shame, and too much scotch. "No. I'm not. I have not been okay, Chloe. For a long time now." The dam begins to burst, and it pours out of him. Steady. Even. "Oh God, she wanted to write you, Chloe. So many times. She wrote letters, knowing you'd never read them. Begging us to send them off to you. At least until I...more or less convinced her to stop. For her own safety."_

 _Chloe pales, remembering something from a while back. Leans in low and then hisses._

" _Okay. Fuck. Tell me! Whoever you are. Is Max okay?! Is she in trouble? Because a few months back, at Christmas, I went to her folks, and they were like...like fucking pod people you know? They barely remembered they even had a daughter. And two months later, they moved away. Said something about Arcadia Bay being too sad for them."_

 _He can only nod, tears running down his cheeks._

 _Chloe is all but begging now, desperation coloring her voice. "Please! Please tell me! You make it sound like she's a prisoner!"_

 _Reese cries out. "Because she is! She...she is. I'm sorry!"_

 _He grabs her hand suddenly, and Max can feel the double-edged regret in him. Regret for having spoken to her. Self-loathing for having to take it all back. Commit yet another violation. He stares hard at her, burning her face into his memory. Knowing that when the time comes to give these memories to her, it will be the first time in almost four years that Max has seen her best friend._

 _Chloe shakes her head, waking up from a daze. Glances over at the drunk-ass guy suddenly sitting in her both._

" _Fuck are you doing, man?"_

 _Reese rising up, turning away from her, completely spent. Shuffling off and muttering, "Nothing. I'm not...I'm just. Nothing. Sorry. Wrong...wrong booth." He throws a handful of twenties at his table, far too much for the bill, and shuffles out, mug still in his hand._

 _He barely hears a second girl walk out of the bathroom. Almost misses their reflection in the window, as they hold hands. Makes out only a few snatches of conversation._

" _Who was that?"_

" _Dunno, Rache. Some drunk asshole."_

 _His eyes...her eyes. He and Max together. Framed in the rear view mirror._

" _S-sorry Max. I probably just made things worse. I didn't think we'd run into her. But...maybe part of me was hoping for it. I couldn't let her keep the memories though. She'd start asking questions. They'd make me do it to her anyhow. Or worse, now that I'm not going to be around anymore. Max, I am so sorry! I am so sorry for what we've done. And twenty four hours of freedom through another man's eyes will never make up for it!"_

She's back in her body again.

They were tightly embracing, and Max was uncertain whether he was trembling, or she was. Maybe both.

But then she gathered him close, crushing him tight. "Chloe!" she whispered. "Oh my God, oh...my. Fuck! I saw her. And...and..."

She's still processing it all. Her brain reels, as it slots so many hours of experiences into her mind.

"Thank you." She sobbed, biting down on her bottom lip. "Th-thank youuuu." She turns to regard him. "Reese...you are...you're the nicest, kindest man. I've ever met. I won't...forget..."

Reese shook his head, grabbed her arms, and whispered harshly in her ear. "Don't say it! I am not kind! I am not nice. I am...a bastard, Max. We're _all_ bastards. And the only thing we deserve is hell. And I will spend every day praying that you can forgive me for the role I played in roping you into yours."

Letting go of her, Reese stormed off at last, towards the van that awaited him.

Max reached out, forced him back. Rewinding the way things play out.

She grabbed his hand before he could go.

She smiled at him; a shadowy echo of the one she wore that day, when she was thirteen. "Wait! Wait hey...hey. Uh...look. Meredith? I...I always thought it was a cool name. Really cool. Don't let them give you shit about it."

He laughed through the tears, and gave her one last hug, before trotting to the van.

This time, she let him go.

* * *

 **May 2012**

Chloe bent her head down, focusing so intently on packing the bowl of her bong that she didn't notice Rachel enter the room until she spotted the other girl's reflection in the colored acrylic.

She lifted her head up, and then smirked. Tried her best not too look too pleased to see her best friend, after she'd up and suddenly disappeared from her life. Rachel, at least, had the decency to give her warning, even if Chloe absolutely despised the reasoning behind it.

"Sooo...you're back to slumming it with me, babe?"

"Don't be shitty, Che. I did miss you, asshole." Rachel flopped back onto the bed, careful not to disrupt her from her task at hand. "And don't think I'm only using you for your bong, but I could really use a huge rip from that after the last couple of weeks."

"Mmmmhmmm? Your new charity project blow up in your face?"

"Ugh, Che. What did I just say about being shitty?"

Chloe held up a finger, requesting a pause, before grabbing a cheap disposable lighter, and flicking it until it finally caught, then applying the flame to the herb in the bowl. Took as large a hit as she could, filling up the chamber before removing her finger from the carb hole, and sucking it in. Ten seconds later, she blew it out in a luxurious stream over Rachel's face, before murmuring, "Uhhh...not...too?"

Rachel inhaled in a long breath and sighed. "Geezus that smells like absolutely awesome weed. Don't go sucking it all down in one hit." She took the bong from Chloe, grabbing one of the stirring rods as well. She then churned up what was left in the bowl until fresh material rose up to the surface.

Chloe gave a delicate sigh, removed her beanie, and tossed it lazily to the side. "Fine. Remind me why the hell you and Victoria Chase are suddenly buddy buddy? You were telling me something about it but...I'll be honest, I was kind of stoned at the time. I mean, like even for me, so..."

Chloe watched Rachel take an equally large hit, sucking the resultant smoke greedily into her lungs, before carefully putting down the pipe. The other girl then cupped her cheeks and tenderly shotgunned it past her lips, turning it into a kiss.

Chloe melted, sucking the smoke back, and blowing it out anew, casting a hazy nimbus around Rachel's hair and face. She smiled giddily, and reached out, taking her hand to interlace their fingers together. She and Rachel had formed a close, fast friendship since the previous Christmas, but it was only in the past couple of months that it'd turned into more than that. She wasn't exactly sure she'd call Rachel her actual-factual girlfriend, but the two had become intimate as of late. Best friends with significant benefits, at the very least.

Much to Chloe's surprise, it was Rachel who'd initiated taking their relationship to that next level. Granted, it'd been on her eighteenth birthday in March. A lot of booze and even more weed were involved. She assumed, the next day that it was a one time thing, a brief flirtatious experience. But Rachel sat her down, and assured her otherwise, much to her surprise and confused delight.

There was just something about her that turned Chloe to putty in the other girl's hands. She had style. Grace. _Joie d'vie_. Was that the right term? She lived life, and didn't fucking care who judged her.

She...she was different from Max, but she had a glow of her own, in the same way.

"Right," Rachel breathed out. "Where was I?"

"Icky Vicky. And why you suddenly felt the need to bury the hatchet, other than in her back." Chloe tamped out some of the ashes from the bowl, adding a bit more fresh bud to the mix, taking another hit as she let Rachel explain.

"Yeah. Oh, God. So about two and a half weeks ago, the weirdest thing happened. I was hanging out at the quad near the girl's dorms, right after class, and Victoria comes out. But just...upset. Like honestly. Losing her cool. I had no idea at the time what was going on, but I never saw her so unnerved. You know she and I, we never got along, I never had time for her and her fake-ass trying to get into Vortex club BS, which only got worse when she _did_ make it, but." Rachel sighed. "I actually felt the need to go up and ask her if everything was okay. Didn't get a chance though, because coming out, right on her heels are Taylor and Courtney...

"...right, the fucking cronies. They weren't licking her shoes hard enough?" Chloe croaked out, as she coughed her way through another large hit.

Rachel blinked. "Uh...no. It was a lot weirder than that, really. They were having a cat fight. Over her."

"Wait. Fuck. What?"

"Swear to God" Rachel held up her hand for effect. "They were demanding Victoria 'pick one' of them, and tearing the other down, as being unworthy of her. I thought it was just a joke, at first, you know? Stupid shit and what not, but the two of them were literally getting down on their knees and professing their undying love. All Victoria could do was start shouting at them to stop it, that it wasn't funny anymore. And then Zarchary...or...oh shit, maybe it was Logon. One of those football sasquatches. Walks up to see what the hell's going on. Victoria tries to explain how she thinks something's wrong with Taylor and Courtney, or how they're taking things too far. So he's about to maybe tell the two of them off, when all of the sudden, _he's_ talking about how Victoria needs to be his woman. Coming on strong...scary strong."

Normally, Chloe couldn't give two shits about Victoria Chase. By the time she got bounced from Blackwell, she was so over and above all that bullshit. Still, there was something about the image in her mind that Rachel was painting, something that struck her curiosity or...it was hard to describe it. Maybe more a sense of rising...she couldn't call it fear. Dread? A sort of instinct, like the hairs on the back of her neck rising, being out in the woods in the middle of the night.

A feeling of wrongness she'd experienced not all that long ago.

"Uhhh. Wow. You know, normally I'd think they were all trying to fuck with her, but I've seen...well...a few weird things over the past few months. One or two, I mean."

Rachel paused. "Oh yeah? Like what?"

"Uh...uh." she blinked, her head starting to swim from the weed, as she lay back.

 _Like the Caulfields acting all fucked up and weird, barely remembering their own daughter, before suddenly moving away._

"...nothing important. So what did you do?"

Rachel took one more hit, blowing it out through her nostrils before pulling Chloe back to join her on the bed. "I tried to go over, put a stop to it. But Victoria is just freaking out, totally at this point. Running, and the three of them are chasing after her, and she's screaming. Makes it to her car, and tears out. Almost runs over one of them."

"Talk about taking the joke too far, huh? Couldn't happen to a nicer queen bitch."

Rachel glared at her, eyes narrowing.

She relented. "Okay, okay. Soooohhreeeee. So you went and visited her or something?"

"Yeah, 'cause she didn't show up for class the next day. Went to her house. She'd practically locked herself up in the room, still upset. Took me a while to convince her that I just wanted to listen. I didn't care we'd been catty and bitchy in the past, all I saw was someone really hurting and needing someone else to talk to."

Chloe reached out, running her fingers through Rachel's long, dirty blonde locks. Kissed the side of her nose and whispered. "That's because you're awesome, sweetie. A lot more than me. I would have pointed and laughed but...anyhow. So you spent the next two weeks helping her out?"

"In a way. I had to coax her out, convince her that whatever it was, it wasn't the end of the world. Just a stupid joke, right? A stupid, shitty joke her so-called friends were playing that they pushed too far. I convinced her to come back to classes with me the next day, and of course, Taylor and Courtney are just fucking besides themselves apologizing. Like they had no idea what came over them."

Chloe offered, "I heard there's some new club drug blowing through the county. Maybe they got their hands on some, fucked themselves up?"

Rachel nodded slowly. "Y'know? Just might have. Never gave it much thought. I spent the time helping rebuild Victoria's confidence a bit. And...um. I guess we're friends now? I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm not going to get sucked into that Vortex Club shit, but...Victoria Chase is complicated, babe. She's got a lot of weird stress going on in her life, social shit, an image to uphold. I think she feels like it chains her down, in a lot of ways. But finals are almost here, and I convinced her to talk her folks into taking a summer trip somewhere...you know...else. Let her clear her head, figure out who she really wants to be, come next year."

"Wow. Sounds...um...like." She blinked. "You've got pretty eyes. You know that, right?"

Rachel swatted at her. "Thanks. I grew'em myself. But yes, I need to finish up quickly because you're stoned, and I'm...yeah. Just about there, too." She started to giggle, a wobbly smile emerging on her lips. "But we talked about a lot of her life, hanging out together the past two weeks at school.. Personal, private shit." The tone in her voice made it clear she wasn't about to share. "There's a decent person, I think, somewhere in there. Hopefully, she'll figure out how to let that person out more often."

Chloe continued to run her fingers through Rachel's hair, tangling it, burying her face against the strands and inhaling the floral scent of her shampoo, mixed with the muskier undertones of her perfume, and the weed.

"Cool story, babe." she whispered. "Welcome back. Now give me some sugar?"

Rachel burst out laughing. "Oh my God, you are so fucking easy sometimes."

Chloe gave a roguish smile. "I thought that's why you liked me. It's not like I'm complicated. You know, like Victoria."

"Oh geezus, stop it. You're deeper than you like people thinking you are, Che. Mmmm, but no. Scintillating intellectual conversation isn't on my agenda right now."

Rachel pushed her back, straddled her hips. She then reached up, starting to unbutton her shirt. Chloe smiled as she leaned in to kiss her hungrily.

Despite the weed fogging up her brain, or maybe because of it, Chloe couldn't quite push away the sudden memory of Max, as it burbled up from the wellspring of her subconscious. No doubt, because Rachel's story had gotten her thinking about Christmas last year. About why she was going to the Caulfields, and how creeped out she was by their behavior.

She shook the image out of her mind, and focused on the girl in front of her, the one who's lips currently mingled with her own.

 _Sorry, Max. We had a lot of great times, but I guess you belong to the past now. I hope you're happy, wherever you are._

* * *

 _ **A/N:** _ Hi folks! Welcome to..um...Max-imum Monday! As I warned would eventually happen, we're a bit off track. I've been sick, and **Corentin IV** has a lot of stuff going on in her life right now. Crazy, ultimately awesome stuff, but busy all the same. We'll need to pull a hiatus eventually, but I didn't want it to happen smack dab in the middle of an in-depth story arc. So here's the thing: I'm going to take over editing for this chapter, and the next two, and THEN we may need to go on a small break. But we'll be at a good "pause" point as it were, between arcs.

So I apologize in advance. I'm okay, but I'm not as good as Cory. The chapters will probably lose a bit of polish, but I'd rather keep the rhythm going at this point than break our stride before we hit the appropriate point. And by the time we hit the hiatus, it should JUST be about time for Chapter 5 anyhow *hee*.

So with that said, I should be putting up the next chapter on Saturday. See you then!


	10. False Dawn (Part I)

**April 2013**

"I imagine you're all suitably impressed with the firearms certification results..."

Nicole listened impassively as Davies once again enthused about Max, the Golden Child. She was leading herself, Rodriguez, Albertson and a few others on a tour, as the kid was put through her paces in the lead up to an expected approval for full field agent status once Max legally turned eighteen in September

It was difficult to put a name to the feeling, why Nicole didn't like, or more importantly trust Max. Her standard go-to answer - other than 'pure instinct' - for past few years was that it was too much power for someone that young to have. She shuddered to think of what could have happened had Max slipped through the radar - which was known to happen in the past - and managed to make a mess of things. Maybe she would have died along with half of Arcadia Bay in the maw of some killer tornado. And maybe that's how Nature resolved this kind of thing, like a wild mutation that wasn't meant to be self-sustaining.

It's not that Nicole was all that religious; she might call the girl a freak, but not any sort of an abomination against God. And she could see how being able to rewind time could be incredibly useful, at least how it might seem that way on the surface. At the same time, she knew history; when people successfully built atom bombs, they couldn't wait to try them out for all sorts of things: mining and excavation, launching rockets, a replacement for mortars. But it didn't take long for folks to realize what a massive mistake that ended up being. Even nuclear power, which on paper was a fantastic idea, was - at least in her opinion - more trouble than it was worth.

 _Just because we_ can _do something doesn't mean we_ should _be..._

"That was absolutely amazing, _jefa_! I haven't seen range scores that high since..." Rodriguez tilted her head and smirked, "...well, since mine. I'm even willing to say she beat me out in a couple of categories."

Ugh! Of course Rodriguez would be singing her praises. Max was her Special Little Snowflake. The baby sister she always wanted. The two of them had been buddy-buddy since day one. Nicole often found the Latina woman's personality grating, but she respected the way Alanna was all business when they were out in the field.

But the way she doted on Max...

 _You think she's going to spare you a kind thought on the day she flips out and turns against everyone? Or worse yet, if she makes a mistake, wipes you or someone you love out of history?_

That was the thing that stuck in Nicole's craw the most: that she alone saw how truly dangerous this entire situation was. She wasn't cold blooded. Despite what people thought, she'd never relished the prospect of putting a bullet in a little girl's brain and walking away, when they first discovered her. But actually _encouraging_ , developing her power? That was the biggest problem with Martinet; he understood the kid was a risk, but he thought he could leash her down, turn her into an obedient little robot. Like that had a prayer in hell of ever working. All he was doing was making her a bigger and badder threat over these past four and a half years.

Then there was Davies.

 _Hmph. Scientists. You'd think she'd be smart enough to get it. But she sees Max as a way to understand how the entire universe ticks. Between that, and playing surrogate Mama, she's too close. Lacks perspective._

The crushing weight of it, the feeling that she was the lone sane person in the room, pressed down constantly upon her shoulders. Day in and day out, she couldn't escape the feeling that she was trapped in the middle, between two opposing and equally insane forces: one side trying its damned fool best to turn Max into the monster they'd always feared she'd be, the other blinded with emotion, unable to see that the girl was too damn dangerous now to simply treat with kid gloves.

 _No wonder Reese snapped! Day Max ever goes crazy, he's a dead man for what he did to her parents. Yeah, maybe it was a shitty thing that he protested every step of the way, but is she gonna remember that? Or even care?_

Nicole came back to the present moment and interjected, "Right, so that was some fancy shooting. But I have to ask: how much of that was skill, and how much of that was cheating?"

Davies narrowed her eyes, a questioning look on her face. "And by cheating, you mean...?"

"Just using her powers."

"I don't see why you'd call that 'cheating', Nicole." Davies retorted. "It's true that Max can rewind back from her mistakes, but she's also reports having developed a way of affecting her own personal perception, slowing down to better aim her shots."

"She's got bullet time now!" Rodriguez laughed.

Davies continued, unperturbed. "Those are all _advantages_ , of which there are no fair or unfair kinds out in the field. You of all people should appreciate that."

Nicole crossed her arms, "Yeah, but we also train for the possibility of getting Nulled out in the field. I just wanna make sure the kid isn't going to fall apart on me if that happens...that she's gonna be worse than useless and put the entire team at risk."

Davies gave a soft sigh. "I'm very aware of the training protocols; I _did_ design most of them myself. That said, while I appreciate you playing devil's advocate, when you see her tabulated results at the end of the testing, you'll no doubt note the sections in which she's operating with and without powers. Yes, there's a noticeable drop in her combat effectiveness, but it's well within our standards."

"Yeah! She goes from being a superhuman badass to being just a regular sharpshooter with years of intense training under her belt." Rodriguez followed her statement up with a soft elbow jab into Nicole's ribs.

"Don't poke me, damnit." she muttered. Looking back to Davies, she added, "Just making sure everyone's keeping some perspective here. That's all. We _are_ talking about sending a teenager out into the field."

 _One we've been messing up for years._

Nicole was painfully aware of her own role in all of that. She'd be the first to cop to her own anger issues and shit. She was flawed and human, as much as anyone else.

 _But what happens if I ever went rogue? I don't fuck up reality. If I'm a gun, that kid is a nuclear fucking warhead._

"And I'm more than happy to have the proper, in-depth conversation to address your concerns...later on." Davies glanced over the group. "And I mean that for anyone else here in this group who has issues."

Nicole stewed in silence over the next ten minutes, while they all waited behind a one way mirror, observing the hand to hand combat portion of the testing exercises.

Davies struck her as joyous, even gleeful as she enthused, "Now, I believe you're in for a treat. Max has already passed her one-on-one and two-on-one certifications. What you're about to see is just for show."

 _Oh...hell no. I seriously don't like the sound of this!_

Max walked out to the center of the room, dressed in a loose gi; she was smirking confidently, bouncing back and forth a bit between her feet, raring to go. After another minute, four security personnel, three men and one woman, walked out. They formed an equidistant circle around her. She turned in a circle and bowed before them, they returned the gesture. Then all assumed a fighting stance.

Nicole hated to admit it, but the kid was pretty damn good; four-to-one odds, _real_ four-to-one odds when it's not some staged TV fight, usually ends quick and badly for the lone combatant. But Max obviously learned a lot in over the years, shifting her opponent's momentum against them, tossing one, then fighting against the next. All the while, she displayed an uncanny ability to dodge and parry, obviously fueled by her ability to see the future, rewind to the past, and then act upon what was coming.

The fight continued on for a good couples of minutes, a deadly eternity in any real street brawl. Max managed to keep the inevitable at bay, but it was just a matter of time before the other four - whom Nicole knew had trained together in the past, and were good at coordinating their movements - pinned her down. They'd already started to flank her, ready to close the jaws of the trap they were laying down.

 _Almost done but the crying. Still, the kid held out. Better than most of us..._

Suddenly, Max disappeared, a hairsbreadth before she two of her opponents could get a grip on her.

"..the fuck!? Where did she go?" Nicole called out in alarm. She glanced over at the others, and then glared. Davies clearly knew the answer, and Rodriguez was smirking in a way that telegraphed the message loud and clear.

She'd been left out of the loop on what the girl could do. _Again_.

 _Fuck!_

Max reappeared three seconds later, delivering a sharp kick to the back of the thigh to one of her opponents. She'd not only disappeared, but managed to shift her position in space.

"She teleports now?!" Nicole asked, with strained credulity.

"No, although it looks that way, doesn't it?" Davies leaned in close to the one way window, a smug grin on her lips. "Near the start of the year, she finally figured out how to take herself out of the flow of time, and jump forward. Not by much, but a useful amount. She's got another trick up her sleeve as well, so don't be alarmed by what comes next."

"Don't be alarmed? Oh shit, what..."

That was when the girl jumped onto the other woman's back - Cassandra Clark was the name, right? - and both of them disappeared.

Nicole felt an itch on the back of her neck, an instinctive _need_ to stop to this, to shut Max down before things got out of hand. She'd have to time it right, no knowing what would happen if she nulled her mid-jump. But the kid was getting way out of control. Just like she always feared she would!

Another four seconds, and both reappeared. Clark immediately passed out, though Max took the time to catch her, soften her fall as she laid her out on the mat.

Nicole saw Davies hold out a hand in her direction, already anticipating her concern.

"What are you letting her do?!" Nicole demanded.

"It's perfectly safe." Davies answered. "Cassie and Max have practiced this trick several times over the past month. As far as Dr. Lawson and I have been able to determine, jumping another person _forward_ in time doesn't cause any lasting damage; clearly it's far less of a strain to go down the stream than up it.

Mollified for the moment, if just barely, Nicole watched. Grumbled darkly as she saw the girl bounce on her feet triumphantly, making movie-style come-hither motions with her fingertips.

She was even better holding her own against three than she was against four. Another minute later, and she 'jumped' Jameson, the same way she'd done with Clark.

 _Shit! She's just playing with them. Kid could end this fight almost immediately with her powers, and she's showing off! Okay, Max. Let's see how you like it if I take you down a fucking peg._

Max's stride was immediately thrown off, no longer able to zig nor zag through the timestream. The shock of her powers abandoning her was all the opening Kowalski needed to grab her arms and pin her from behind. Gifford followed up, delivering a few punishing blows. Both of them quickly stopped when they realized that something wasn't going affording to plan.

Max roared out, "Let me go! Let me fucking go! She's cheating! Damnit!"

Kowalski let Max slip out of his grip, as she ran out the door.

Nicole couldn't help herself. She really didn't mean to have such a shit eating grin on her face, would realize much later that it was just rubbing salt into the wound, but the girl saw it as soon as she was out in the hallway. Starring daggers at her, and Nicole was more than happy to engage in a staredown.

"Wright! What the hell are you playing at?" Davies demanded.

"Just shaking things up. Because clearly she needs the lesson." she said, keeping her gaze steady on Max. "Girl, you need to realize that this isn't a fucking game. There's no room for error, and if you get yourself or someone else on the team killed because..."

Max crossed the distance between them in a flash. Nicole's own stupid fault, dropping her quantum stasis field like she did. Had to give her credit, girly had herself a mean right hook. She screamed out at her, her voice ragged with barely contained fury.

"You had no right! You had no fucking right, this was my test, and you ruined it! I'm tired of you making my life hell, bitch. I'm going to make you so sorry!"

Nicole instinctively raised her stasis field anew and grabbed Max by the front of her top. "I am gonna knock the motherfucking taste out of your mouth, little girl!" Later, much later, she'd regret saying it, regret being the one to escalate the bad situation she created. Especially when she knew better.

 _Damnit! You know she's dangerous, but you keep egging her on. The fuck's wrong with you?!_

Surprisingly strong hands reached in, gripping both their shoulders, followed by a booming voice.

"That's bloody damn well enough, from both of you!"

It was a mind-blankingly scary thing, seeing the carefully crafted mask of control fall away from Camilla Davies' face, and witnessing the barely contained fury contorting her features; more than enough to bring whatever fight was brewing to an immediate halt.

Her head turned to the girl. "Max, why don't you walk over to Dr. Lawson's office and have her look you over. Ask Clark and Jameson to go with you as well, please. It looks like they're coming around."

"But...but she fucking wrecked...!" Max started to stammer out, with impotent rage.

"Max! That wasn't a polite suggestion. It was a direct order."

Nicole watched as Max sulked off, sufficiently cowed. The girl looked over her shoulder and hissed out, "This isn't over..."

"Max!" Davies barked out, achieving the desired effect of causing her to run back into the room, before walking with the others towards the med bay a minute later.

 _Well Nikki, you really stepped in it this time._

"Alright," Nicole began. "Maybe I was..."

Davies frowned, holding up a warning finger. "You shut your damn gob, and you open your bloody ears. My office, right now."

Nicole knew she'd crossed the line this time,and badly; she'd only seen Davies this pissed twice before. Her accent always shifted, became a little more 'lower class' when she was this kind of furious. It gave her time to ruminate on how she was going to defend herself, as the pair walked along in silence the three minutes it took to get to the office.

As soon as the door closed, Davies was on her. "Agent Wright, I am only going to say this once: you never, not ever, interfere with one of my training exercises like that again or there will be hell to pay. Do you understand me?"

Nicole held up her hands defensively, "Look, Cammie, I was just..."

"A simple yes or no is all I require from you!"

She knew when she was beat.

"Yes, Ma'am."

Davies seemed to finally calm at last, offhandedly waving her over to the seat in front of the desk, before collapsing into the oversized chair on the other size.

"Nikki, this needs to end. Today. This situation between you and Max. Like it or not, she's going to be deployed as a field agent, barring some sort of extraordinary circumstance, and that means the two of you are going to have to work together. More importantly, you're going to need to _trust_ each other. I will _not_ be put into the position where I can't deploy you both on the same mission. Max obviously needs to grow into her new role, but _you_...are an adult with years of experience under your belt; it's time you started to fucking act like it."

Nicole brushed her fingers back over her tight-knit cornrows. "...I just thought she needed to know, needed to understand, that this isn't a game. She started this too young, got her head all filled with notions of playing Wonder Girl. I mean, hell, you saw her out there. She was enjoying herself, playing at it. She needs to know this is serious business."

"Oh, believe you me, she bloody well knows. I think we've done a fine and fancy job of disabusing her of those old romantic notions, and crushing most of her childhood into a compact cube of angst, thank you so much." Davies groaned, rising up from her chair, walking over to her shelves. She poured herself a shot of something, and Nicole couldn't help but notice that she pointedly refused to offer her one.

Continuing to slowly calm down, Davies continued, "Believe it or not, part of me actually approves, in a limited but perverse sense, of what you did. Max does, on occasion, need to be reminded that her ability to rewind will only save her from disaster up to a point. One drugged or poisoned dart, a sniper's bullet, and that's the end. Still..." Nicole watched as the other woman walked back, leaned over the desk, and looked down at her. "You went off half-cocked on your own, kicking the hornet's nest, then you made the situation worse. This was more than you just trying to teach her a valuable lesson; this was you being cruel. So I need an answer from you now, Nicole. Something real, something better than 'instinct', like you told me last time. It's time for you to explain why you hate Max Caulfield so bloody much, so I can figure out how I can fix this. If it's even fixable."

Nicole slumped her head down, massaged at her temples with one hand, as she racked her brain.

 _Ah. God. Nikki...the fuck, girl? It's not like what she's saying's unfair. You just have to make her understand...but you have to understand it first. C'mon. Dig in there. Reach! You're so close to this, so close. So focus. You didn't like her from the first day...no. Not dislike. Worried. Scared even. Of what all that power in the hands of a thirteen year old girl could do. How teaching her how to fight, turning her into a weapon was gonna turn her strange. What happens if she does go rogue someday, and who has to be the one to..._

 _...shit. SHIT! That's it!_

She looked up at last, fixed a hard stare up at Davies. "An answer. A real answer? Yeah. I think I finally put my finger on it. Just now. You and Reese and Rodriguez, even Chen and Villanova, you're all her friends. Hell, probably been keeping her fucking sane this whole time, don't think I don't notice or appreciate that. But can you stop her, if she suddenly went nuts, turned all dark side, bad seed? I'll save you the trouble of answering, because you know it's 'no'. Not if she struck hard and fast enough. And at the risk of sounding like an arrogant bitch, I'd appreciate a drink, Ma'am, before I finish where I'm going with this."

Davies nodded once, eyes narrowed, but clearly intrigued. She poured a shot of whiskey and passed it over. Nicole just about slammed it back as soon as the glass touched her fingertips.

She winced softly. "Smooth...shit. This that fancy Suntory stuff your girlfriend in Japan sends you?"

Davies shifted, crossing her arms. "Shimiko is not...and...ahem! We're not talking about me, we're focusing on _you_."

Nicole nodded. "So we are. My bad. Okay, long story short? If shit turns bad, who do you think's the one that has to stop her? The only one who _can_ stop her?" She thumped her chest, then leaned in close, and continued her voice rising up, "Me. 'Cause unlike the rest of you all, I don't have the luxury of letting myself like her! I can't hesitate, not for one second, to put a bullet between her eyes if it comes to it!" She gesticulated, pointing at the center of her forehead with her middle and index finger "Not with a girl who can go back in time, and fuck up God knows what. It's...ah. Yeah. Shit. Simple as that, I guess."

Davies nodded, and seemed mollified for the moment with her response, even reaching out to rest a hand on her shoulder. "Right. Well, I'm glad you've finally had the appropriate epiphany. But that still leaves the question of how we're going to handle this. It's a proper cock-up we've got here, to put it lightly. One we'll need to work through."

Nicole sighed heavily, and slumped down further in her chair, her righteous anger draining from her, now that it had been given a name and form.

She looked away from Davies, speaking in a soft voice. "Yeah. I suppose it is."

* * *

 **May 2013**

Chloe trudged through the puddles left by the passing of a late spring squall. It was cold for this time of year, the chill sinking down and biting into her bones. A sole, lonesome figure, she'd spent the better part of her Saturday stapling up handmade 'Missing Person' posters, across the Blackwell campus and downtown areas.

Reaching out towards the picture of Rachel she'd just attached to yet another bulletin board, Chloe stroked it tenderly. Bit down hard on her lip, and closed her eyes. Tears rolled off her cheeks, mingling with the droplets on her poncho.

Rachel was her best friend...hell, more than just friends. She'd been her angel, who found her when she hit rock bottom and lifted her up. With her smile, humor, heart, and warmth. She was absolutely amazing.

And now? Just gone. Vanished, as if into thin air. No one had any idea where she went. And no one seemed to care.

No one, save her.

Chloe shouldn't have been alone in this! Victoria was supposed to Rachel's friend too! They were close. Closer than Chloe was comfortable with, but at the end of the day, Rachel always made sure to find time for her. She knew what to do or say, in order to make her feel...so special.

But no, a couple days after Rachel disappeared, Victoria and her family suddenly took off for some extended family vacation in Brazil. Even managed to work it out with the school so that she could defer her exams a couple months.

 _Fucking special treatment for the golden girl. Blackwell can die in a fire!_

Still, Chloe couldn't help but wonder if the two events were connected. It seemed too coincidental. She collapsed onto one of the benches under a tree, as the same crazy conspiracy theory played out in her mind, just as it had for the past week.

 _Was Rachel involved with Victoria too? I mean...we were together but...but we kind of had like this unspoken agreement that we weren't exclusive. Just friends, but with benefits._

Chloe hugged herself, shivering in remembrance of some of those benefits.

 _So I guess she could have had some side action going on with Vic. Ugh! God, don't even want to think about it! How the hell could she? And...and then Victoria, like the controlling bitch she is, probably said something like "It's me and no one else!" and...and oh God! She killed Rachel or something, because she wouldn't be part of her sick, twisted little Vortex Club. That's gotta be it! It's the only thing that makes sense. She killed her, and now her parents are helping her run away and hide!_

She pounded her fist repeatedly against the slats of the bench, ignoring the ache it produced in her fist, arm and shoulder.

 _Or maybe...she finally escaped Arcadia Bay. Ran off to LA or Seattle or San Francisco. Just like we always talked about. But I mean...like WE talked about. Her and me. We were going to go together. She wouldn't just leave like that without me. Would she?_

Opening up her eyes, Chloe gazed out across her world: grey, dark and terrible. She thought she'd hit rock bottom on that Christmas night, a year and a half back. But that was nothing to how she felt now.

 _I've lost so many people. My Dad..._

Years later, she'd still never forgiven Alyssa Anderson for what happened that day. What she'd done, intentionally or otherwise.

And never mind the betrayal Chloe experienced when Joyce remarried. No one was ever going to replace her father, but that David Madson dick was the absolute _worst!_ She'd run into him a minute ago, and all he could do was give her shit about being on the campus...technically trespassing.

 _Worst fucking stepfather ever! My_ real _Dad, he would...he'd never...he'd be_ helping _me put up fliers, not treating me like a criminal and ignoring me! Joyce, how could you have married him! This douche, of all people!?_

Chloe snarled softly, anger flaring up. It felt good to give in to it. It kept the pain at bay, as her thoughts continued to wander.

 _And then there's...there's Max._

Was her best friend since age five taken from her, or did she leave on her own? So many freaky, unanswered questions, especially given how fucked up her parents became afterwards. It was still a big mystery. Chloe still swore there was something she was missing. Something vital, critical, that she figured out once, then lost. Maybe it came to her in a dream?

But the sad truth was that it was easier to hate Max for simply leaving home and forgetting about her; the alternatives - the ones she let herself contemplate now and then, late at night - were far too painful for her heart to bear. Especially now.

 _Rachel was all I had left. Now she's gone..._

She swiftly rose up, grabbed a nearby trash can, and flung it down to the ground in an all-consuming rage. She then kicked at it with her steel-toed boots, screaming out with hatred against a world she couldn't stand to look at any longer, let alone live in.

A minute later, temper appropriately spent, she picked up the stack of remaining fliers with trembling hands, and continued on with her task. One that seemed hopeless, but the brief, flickering ember of hope was all she had to keep her going now.

She wasn't beat yet...but God if her back didn't bow from the strain. She had to keep going, if only because not ending it all seemed like the best way to flip Life the middle finger.

* * *

 ** _A/N:_** What's this!? A Tuesday update? How wacky!

Truth be told, the latest chapter was turning into a real bear. It was already hovering around 11K, and I was becoming terribly obsessed with making things 'just perfect'. ESPECIALLY the scene with Wright, which as you can probably guess, I consider to be kind of critical to her character development. I have a newfound respect for the editorial discipline that **Corentin IV** displays. But I realized that if I didn't get the Wright scene out and published ASAP, it was going to drive me to distraction for the rest of the week. I'd keep tweaking and tweaking and tweaking...

So I says to myself, I says, "Lyta, this chapter has an obvious natural break in the middle. Publish what you have now, and do the second part on Saturday. Then you won't be driving yourself nuts anymore, or worrying about gilding the lily." And so I have. I hope you all enjoy it!


	11. False Dawn (Part II)

**July 2013**

Camilla sat across the desk from Martinet, but it might as well have been across the whole of Washington state. Their working relationship, never terribly cordial from the beginning, was positively frosty after almost five years. Neither had been able to make any headway towards having the other ousted: after a thirty year career, Martinet had favors to spare, and while his style would have normally ruffled feathers with the current administration, having a threat-benefit like Max to point to as a need for a more militarily aggressive DI bought him a lot of leeway.

As for herself, DHS considered her technical skills, enhanced cognition and expertise far too valuable to let go without extraordinary reasons. Especially if she might return to TFX in Britain or join Rising Sun in Japan. Worse yet - in their eyes - was the possibility of her entering private industry, where she could introduce any number of disruptive technologies to the market. They also knew she wasn't the sort of person who could be 'retired' quietly, or without tremendous damage being inflicted in the wake of her death or disappearance.

The peace, though tenuous, held for now; but like the symbol of their organization, the sword of upheaval hung above them both, barely contained by the merest thread.

"The Joint Chiefs are pleased with the initial success of Project Oracle." Martinet said. Camilla could immediately see the statement for what it was: part boast, part taunt.

 _Bastard..._

"Yes, well," Camilla began. "It's easy to sit back and let others do the work while one collects the credit, isn't it?" It was a catty remark, dangerously close to the surface, but where Max was concerned, she'd become something of a...what was that term the Americans were fond of? Grizzy Momma?

She continued, "I'm sure to the untrained eye, it looked smooth and flawless, but last month's little test run put a tremendous strain on Max. She experience significant difficulty keeping track of the ebb and flow of changing variables from the continuously branching timelines in order to provide feedback to the strike teams in Yemen. To be frank, and I don't mean this disparagingly against her, but had I not been able to lend assistance, traveling with her on her rewinds, and keeping track of said variables, the entire operation would have collapsed. An operation, I might point out, is technically illegal for us to be conducting. The Shadow-Seven Accord specifically forbids the use of Specials for direct military purposes. Maybe the original intention was to keep them from being used as front line troops, but it's clear the spirit of the law extends to operations such as this, as well." She paused, struggling to keep her voice even for her next statement. "Not to mention the incredibly dubious morality of plying a legal minor with methamphetamines to keep her awake and functioning as her own objective period of wakefulness approached a full day. "

Martinet's voice rose, his body tensing. Blatantly ignoring the last accusation, he said,"Don't be so naive, Davies! Do you really believe that Russia or China are limiting themselves by honoring the pact?"

She paused for a second, tilted her head, and then answered, "Putting aside the fact the Chinese are still rebuilding their devastated Specials operation after the Jiangsu incident four years ago, and the Russians are effectively out of the game - again - after their private little war with the Prometheus Institute this past April, we've never found any evidence that they haven't been..."

Marinet interrupted with a derisive snort, "Then it's only because they don't have our resources! Believe me, if they did, the situation would be much different. Whatever your feelings regarding Oracle, it clearly demonstrated Caulfield's incredible potential. Granted, we'll need to work with her to be able to handle the number crunching on her own." He gave her a pointed look, then turned back to a tablet on his desk. "Now that Congress is taking note, they're already talking about significant budgetary increases." He straightened up in his chair, adjusted his glasses and declared, "Damocles is rising to a new level of prominence."

Camilla bit her tongue. All this time, and she still couldn't believe that this was Martinet's priority: petty glory-hounding, and turning Max into a weapon to ensure American supremacy and exceptional. She never thought there'd ever come a day when she'd wax nostalgic for Samuel Robertson's administration, but Martinet had proven himself many times worse.

"But we're not here to talk about Yemen" he continued. "Now that Max is demonstrating an ability to rewind a full twenty-four hours back, DHS is sitting up and taking notice; they're considering all the possibilities that an extra day's peek into the future would give them."

She remembered some of the high-level government functionaries who had toured the base, or observed the Oracle footage. She could see the same avarice in their eyes as she did in Martinet's."

"And I've already crafted a set of guidelines to manage expectations and appropriate use for _when_ to send her back. Let's not forget that first, she barely managed to break through to a full day a month ago, and the effort is still exhausting for her. Second, every day she goes back is one less day for her to live her normal life. If we're going to utilize her abilities, it should be to prevent or minimize the effects of catastrophic events that cause massive casualties, or severely threaten global peace. We can't go sending her back every day that some terrorist group manages to car bomb a market in the Middle East, or when a group such as Anonymous is about to publically dump some dreadfully embarrassing information they've acquired about the latest batch of Constitutional violations the US Government has been caught committing."

Martinet leaned in, threateningly, "What is it you're trying to say, exactly?"

Angrily, she crossed her arms. "Don't kill the goose laying your golden eggs."

She immediately shifted tracks, cutting off any opportunity for him to retort, "Now, I've gone over the project specs that DHS laid out for the Storyteller Protocol, and frankly, I find them ridiculously over-engineered. If we're primarily interested in simply sending her back with useful information, she can carry a flash drive or a paper folder with her. It's a trick we've been playing with for years now, just taken to the next level."

"You disagree with the importance of the checks and balances, to verify her identity when she winds back? Not to mention the ruggedization of the data storage medium?"

She rolled her eyes with heavy exasperation, "You mean to check if she was authorized to go back in time, and that she isn't attempting to escape your clutches, with these...what are you calling them? Edit Orders? Because let's face it, all she can do is rewind back in the same place she started from, which will be this base." She then held up a tempering hand as he started to protest. "Don't worry, I've designed your system, I'm merely criticizing the need for it. Especially as it seems to somehow require the use of incredibly expensive, specialized single-use physical tokens for data storage, not to mention the shielded control computer. I'd love to know who's getting their beak wet from _that_ hundred-and-fifty million dollar contract. Frankly, there's no evidence that we couldn't achieve the same bloody thing by building an encrypted flash storage drive into Max's lifeclock. I could do that for a tiny fraction of the cost."

Adjusting his glasses, Marinet asked, "I thought you tried that, Davies? Ran into problems with data corrupting?" There was a slight smirk in his lips when he asked.

She did her best to bite back a cutting remark, " _That_ was for highly experiential research and development, in creating a storage medium that would be completely impervious to changing timelines. A sort of universal storage point, quantumly decoupled from direct causality in the same way Max appears to be. It would allow information to be preserved despite any number of changes to our timeline, and more importantly, if I can get it reliably working, it will completely remove the need for the Edit Order tokens altogether. I'm sure you can see how this sort of thing would be invaluable, in more ways than one."

He nodded, stroking his chin thoughtly. "Actually, I can. How close are you to perfecting it?"

Camilla paused, glancing cautiously at him.

"It functions now, believe it or not, so we're well past the initial proof of concept phase. I've left the test bed installed in Max's lifeclock while I continue to tinker with improvements and overcome hurdles. The biggest kink is preventing the information from becoming hopelessly corrupted after two or three days of storage. If I had to hazard a guess, I believe we're running into data collisions from parallel universes attempting to build the exact same device. So when all of us try to store our data in the same fixed point in the multiverse, sooner or later, it encounters catastrophic fragmentation. But I have a few simple ideas in mind for how to get around that."

She paused, then added as a casual afterthought, "It's probably best not to contemplate the fact that I may or may not have accidentally discovered a way to communicate with alternate dimensions, at least until we've had more time to study the phenomenon."

To his credit, Marinet seemed genuinely intrigued. "Let me know what resources you need to advance the project. And I'd appreciate it if you kept me personally apprised of your future results."

She blinked, "O-of course."

And this was the part that caused her heart to ache. The occasional glimmers of...she wasn't sure what to call it. Not decency, but there were times when she thought she could see Martinet's curiosity and interest in exploring the wonders that Specials and their study were revealing. Free of the calculating and scheming, bereft of attempts to advance some sort of jingoistic agenda.

 _Where you a halfway tolerable man once upon a time, Paul Martinet? Are those glimmers I see a part of you that you buried, or a side of you that you never fully let out for some reason? Or is this just a mask you put up? The same one that you used to initially bamboozle us into thinking you ever had a heart at all. A few years ago, I might have thought different, but all I can assume now is that you're looking for yet another way to turn my ideas into a weapon._

She cleared her throat, "Getting back on point: if these specifications meet your approval, once you sign off on them, I believe General Dynamics and L3 KEO can deliver the first batch of tokens to us by the end of September."

Martinet wore a disbelieving expression, "So quickly?"

Camilla twitched her lips. "Those new industrial three-dimensional printers work an absolute treat. Pity we aren't letting them out onto the civilian market yet. Anyhow, I'll cobble together a master system to interface with them until Lockheed-Martin delivers that portion." She handed over a paper printout on official stationary for his perusal and signature.

He picked the papers up, giving them a quick once over. "Fine, good. I'll get the ball rolling on this by the end of the day." He started to turn away, as if ending the conservation abruptly.

"One more thing before I go..." she started.

The chill settled back between them. Martinet said nothing, but he didn't dissuade her from continuing, either.

"As you're no doubt aware, Max is going to turn eighteen in a couple of months. That means we're now legally allowed to deploy her as a full agent out in the field, pending approval, which I'm sure you'll give a minute after midnight, September twenty-first. But I'm sure you're also aware that the Wayden Amendment failed to be reauthorized after the last PUSA sunset. When she's a legal adult, you'll no longer be able to compel or conscript her against her will and call it a matter of national security.

She took a long breath,composed her face into a mask of - she didn't want to call it pleading, but at least some sort of emotional appeal - and said, "You're going to need to think long and hard about letting Max have a life of her own. Frankly, we've put her through hell for the past five years, and we've gotten away with it because she was a minor, and because fear of the unknown carried the day. She's going to be a woman now, legally if nothing else, and we need to let her rebuild a life for herself, outside of the confines of the Damocles Initiative. If you continue with the status quo..."

Camilla paused to shake her head. "I'm going to be blunt, I'm not happy with some of what I'm seeing in her psyche profile. If you're going to send her out into the field, and put people's lives on the line, _my_ people's lives on the line, and I do consider Max to be one of my people, then we need to begin ameliorating the worst of what's been done to her, as important, no doubt, as you felt it was. At the very least, she should be given time off before we start sending her out. The tighter you wrap the bars around her, the more she's going to want to slip free."

"I don't know..." Martinet mused. "Max seems to have reached a certain acceptance of her fate, over the past year. The course of her life from here on out..."

Camilla frowned. "If...if you think some sort of Stockholm Syndrome is going to carry the day for you, please allow me to disabuse you of that charmingly naive delusion, right here and now. We may have made her aimless, and then given her only one path. And you may think she'll follow it without significant resistance. But I will give her as many other options and possibilities as required, if need be."

Martinet was silent the entire time. He paused, a thoughtful expression crossing his face.

"I see..."

"This isn't something I'm going to leave be, Paul."

He frowned at the familiar tone she took with him. But he nodded once, and said, "I promise you. I'm aware of the problem, and I'm doing my best to address it appropriately."

Camilla felt herself relax. Just a touch.

 _My God, did I actually get through to him? Best not to get my hopes up. But that was a much better response than I was initially expecting._

She nodded. "Thank you. I appreciate it." With that, she stood and started to leave, without waiting to be dismissed.

She closed the door behind her, her spirits cautiously optimistic. Maybe there was time. Maybe the mistakes of the past five years could, over time, be corrected, and Max would be allowed to live up to her potential, while still enjoying the same right to a normal life as everyone else.

It was just as well then, that she failed to see what happened five minutes later: Martinet picking up the phone, and placing a call.

"Hello. Senator McConnell? Yes, this is Paul Martinet calling, from the S.O.A.P. Yes, that's right, we met last year. I believe we gave you a tour of our main facility, the one that houses the Damocles Initiative." He paused, letting the other man on the other end speak for a few moments. "Ah! Yes, you just heard about that? Yes. Thank you, sir, we're very excited about what Project Oracle can continue to accomplish. That's actually the reason I'm calling you...to discuss the reauthorization of the Wayden Amendment..."

* * *

 **September 2013**

Max and Rodriguez were huddled together in the corner of the common room, as they whispered in hushed, conspiratorial tones.

"What is this stuff? And why are you making me drink it?" Max asked, as she pinched a small clear shotglass between thumb and forefinger. From the smell alone, if it was anyone else but Alanna offering it to her, she'd swear they were playing yet another cruel prank on her.

"It's tequila!" the other woman replied brightly, in a tone of voice that suggested she'd already helped herself to a couple of shots. "But not just any tequilla; my _papi_ brews this stuff special, goes out to Jalisco and harvests the agave himself every year. This bottle was from a strong batch, so drink up _hermanita_!"

Max's eyes widened as Rodriguez wrapped an arm around her shoulders and said, "Let's do this quick before they catch us, okay? One, two, three!"

Despite her better judgement, Max went along, slamming the shot back, immediately regretting it. It burned like finely honed obsidian flakes soaked in formic acid, and she was pretty sure she wouldn't be able to salivate properly for the next few minutes. She coughed violently, but despite the pain, smiled lopsidedly. It felt good; not the actual act of drinking, that'd been awful, but the tiny rebellion she engaged in. She could see the appeal, especially after spending the past five years being relatively well-behaved by and large...not that those assholes in this fucking place deserved it.

But today, she was an adult. Legally.

Biologically, that was a different story, as the a quick glance down at her lifeclock was more than happy to remind her.

 **SUBJECTIVE LOCAL TIME: 18:35 (UTC-8) 09-21-2013  
** **SUBJECTIVE AGE: 18 Y - 0 D - 2H - 05M - 8S  
** **OBJECTIVE AGE: 18 Y - 340 D - 18H - 56M - 23S**

"First one's always the hardest, _chica_! But after the party, we'll find a hidey-hole and finish the bottle?"

Max gripped at her protesting stomach, roiling with fury and cactus-based rotgut. She stammered, "Y-yeah. Maybe. If I manage to live through that last shot."

"Ha ha! Yeah, maybe we'll switch to something smoother, huh?" Alanna started to sniff at her empty glass, then experimentally stuck her tongue into it, lapping up the last few drops. "Oh shit! I think is a bottle from the batch _Papi_ puts the rattlesnake into. Fuck, I thought there was more bite than usual!"

Max could feel herself turning green, her heart pounding. "Did-did you just fucking poison me?"

"Naaaaah Not fatally!" Rodriguez said with a wink, pounding her on the back.

She didn't throw up at least, but that was by dint of not having had anything to eat yet.

It was a small party, just a few streamers and balloons, along with a banner. Originally, Davies insisted on marking the occasion with a huge event, like one of those debutante coming-out balls, but Max put a stop to that. Eighteen was great, and she was thrilled to finally make it there, but a big bash wasn't really how she wanted to mark the day. She could literally count on one hand the number of people at Zion that she called 'friend', and was holding out hopes that soon, she'd be able to leave the facility, find an apartment to move into, and figure out this whole 'life' thing, just like Davies said she'd been pushing for.

DI had been her whole world for almost a third of her life. She didn't want that anymore. It was just a job now. One she was forced into, even one she was probably going to be fucking brilliant at. But only because she didn't know what else to do, frankly. But she sure as shit didn't want to share a milestone with a group composed primarily of people who didn't care about or were actively hostile towards her.

Maybe she could have a bigger party for number nineteen, with a lot more people whose company she actually enjoyed.

For now, this would do: Cammie, Alanna, Jason Chen, and Kimmy Villanova. The Swedish intern from R&D, she'd specifically invited too, because Alanna said he was cute, and maybe Max should make a pass at him...but he only popped in for a few minutes. Everyone else in the room just mingled amongst themselves, passing through for free food and the chance to take a break from the day.

A firm hand gripped Max and Rodriguez by the shoulders, prompting both of them to look up with simultaneous expressions of guilt and alarm.

Davies just shook her head, a maternal smile of disapproval on her lips. "Good Lord, Alanna, she's not old enough for liquor!"

"She's fully qualified to operate at least twelve different kinds of firearms, and can easily kill a man with her bare hands in under ten seconds. I think she's earned the right to a fucking drink, _jefa_. But just in case your chief complaint is not being included?" With that, Rodriguez produced a third shot she had somehow managed to keep completely concealed until this moment, offering it up to Davies.

Max's eyes bugged out as she watched her mentor grab the glass and tilt the contents gracefully back into her mouth, swishing it around for a few seconds, before swallowing smoothly. "Hmmm. Not bad. Fifty-three point eight six two nine four percent alcohol content I'd say, from a variety of agave that only grows in the southern edge of the Los Altos region of Jalisco. Unusually high limestone content in the bricks of the stove used to heat and crush the _piña_ when it was prepped for brewing. The bottle this was stored in was used before, possibly for rum? And..." she smacked her lips. "Bloody hell, is that rattlesnake?"

Rodriguez laughed out loudly. "Ha ha ha-holy shit! I swear seeing you work never gets old!"

Davies smiled graciously. "Right, if you'll excuse me, Alanna, I need to take Max aside for a few minutes."

"Ohhhhh. Riiiight. Yeah, is it that time? Okay! See you soon!" Rodriguez tossed off a quick wink before zipping away.

Max smiled shyly up at Davies, as the other woman wrapped an arm around her shoulders, guiding her to the center of the room. She groaned internally, because she knew what was coming. Part of her absolutely dreaded it, having the spotlight turned upon her, when all she wanted to do was be left alone. But another part was perversely looking forward to this day, ever since she was taken in by the Damocles Initiative almost five years earlier.

Davies cleared her throat, catching the attention of what few attendees were in the room. "If you'll all indulge me for just a minute, please. I want to thank you for joining us on Max's big day. As many of you no doubt are aware, not only is she turning eighteen, but it is my happy privilege to announce that she's been granted preliminary field agent status. There will of course be an official ceremony, what with its mandatory attendance and lack of comestibles, but I would like to continue on with an old SOAP tradition that dates back almost to the beginning."

Max covered her face with her palm. Still, she smiled nervously against the skin. As much as the last half decade had been an absolute hell, this felt like a turning point at last. A new start, like she might finally get out into the world once more, do some good, help real, actual people, and maybe build a life for herself from the abortive wreck of her teenage years.

Davies reached underneath her blouse, and pulled out the tags she was wearing around her neck. "As most of you know, in the olden days of the sixties and seventies, it was standard practice for SOAP Specials to be assigned some sort of codename for use out in the field. In fact, the adoption of 'handles' is an ancient tradition, with roots as far back as Ancient Japan and...well, anyhow." Davies made herself stop before she began t wax overlong.

She then continued. "As times grew more cynical and we lost that wide-eyed wonder, hope and optimism, the practice fell largely by the wayside. In memory of those golden years, and as a bit of a jape and a josh, whenever a fellow Special makes field agent status, the rest of us get together and present them with their custom dog tags, embossed whatever terribly embarrassing codename we think they would have been given, were these still those heady days of yore. It's a tradition I've been more than happy to keep alive, from the first day I took over as head of field operations."

Pausing to give her own tags a jingle, she continued, "And as part of that tradition, would every Special in the room please show us yours, and call out whatever codename you were given, however unfortunate? I'll start off: as everyone knows, I cut my teeth at Task Force Excalibur, but I barely made it a week here in the States before they started calling me Savant."

"Caliente!" Rodriguez called out, rattling her tags in return. "Because you're all a bunch of unimaginative, borderline racist fucks. Even if it _does_ fit!" She laughed brightly at that, and clenched her hand, forming an oversized fiery fist above her head, with a middle finger proudly extended. It quickly vanished before it had a chance to set off the sprinkler system in the room.

"Atlas!" Timothy Snord bellowed out, before striking a bodybuilders pose. From his slight frame and thick glasses, one would never imagine he could comfortably lift an eighteen-wheel truck over his head.

"Snakeskin." Jack Albertson added, in an intentionally affected raspy voice. Max always found it weird, given that his powers, which granted him enhanced reflexes, endurance and being slightly bulletproof, seemed to have nothing to do with either snakes, or skin...

 _...oh, maybe the bulletproof part?_

But that still didn't make any sense.

"Colorblind" was called out by Ralph Sweeney, in a quiet monotone. Clearly, he didn't care for this part. He kept mostly to himself, and in five years, Max didn't think she had exchanged more than eight words with him. His ability to form hard light constructs kept him in demand in the field.

Davies spoke again, "A few of us couldn't make it...Spoiler is pulling monitor duty."

At least, that was the excuse Wright had given. Max was grateful for the lack of her presence. They weren't friends, and they never would be, but Nicole actually apologized to her after the shit she pulled a few months ago.. Davies made her do it, that much was obvious. But after that whole shitstorm, Wright was really backing off and not trying to make her life hell, like before. Maybe there was a chance the air could be cleared.

 _Yeah. Maybe someday. Not today. Not tomorrow. Someday. We both know I'm not going to just get over all the shit that passed between us anytime soon._

"And Retcon, of course, sends his love from Japan, Max. He left you a little package in your room. Also, it was his suggestion that won the vote."

 _Reese? What could he have...oh no! Oh FUCK NO!_

Oh yes. Max knew what was coming the moment she found out who picked the name.

 _Shit! This is going to be so embarrassing!_

"So may I introduce our sister-in-arms: Max "Flashback" Caulfield!

Max let out the breath she'd been holding, then give a tiny smile.

 _Reese, you did remember! More importantly, you skipped the really embarrassing part. Aw damnit. I miss you!_

She finally spoke. "I can't believe...can't believe he remembered that. I only said it to him once. And there was more..." she trailed off.

"Yes well... _Princess_ Flashback seemed a bit too cruel, dear." Davies said. "You're not a little girl anymore." she added, in a much softer tone.

Max allowed Davies to drape the chain around her neck, grabbing the polished aluminum tags in her hands, and looking them over. They didn't appear much different from what the armed forces normally used, save for the DI logo on the back.

" **FLASHBACK"  
** **SN #00024601**

She noted that there was a blank section where her name should have been. She'd have to ask Davies about that later.

There was a round of applause, mostly polite, but a good portion of it enthusiastic, especially from Rodriguez. Davies seemed particularly proud. Max couldn't remember the last time she saw her with such a wide smile.

A couple hours later, after the party had quickly disbursed, Max sat in her room, glancing through the care package that Reese sent her from Japan: snackfoods, DVDs, magazines. She smiled to herself, munching contentedly on something called 'Hello Panda', which she assumed - hoped - had no actual panda content.

A light rapping on the door prompted her to call out, "Who is it?"

"It's me, dear. Do you mind if I join you?" Davies asked.

"No! Come on in."

Davies shut the door behind her. "Well then, Max. Why don't I jump right to the point. I just thought maybe we could sit down and have a little chat, about where things go from here."

Max glanced up curiously, and held out the box. Davies delicately extracted a small handful, and studied one before popping it in her mouth. Crunching away, she said, "Oh! Yes. Shimiko adores these things."

"Shimiko?" she inquired.

"Yes. From Japan. My contemporary at Rising Sun, surely I must have mentioned her?"

"A few times." Max answered. "Although really, I hardly know anything about you."

"Oh, that's not true! Is it?" The older woman paused, then conceded, "Well. Perhaps I _have_ cultivated a bit of mystery regarding my background. There was a certain amount of formality that the teacher-student relationship required. Of course, now that I'm no longer your teacher..." Davies smirked, then sat down on the side of the bed, next to her. "But back to you. I must admit, you took everything in good humor at the party. You seem to relish the prospect of actual field work."

Max tilted her head, and gave her a searching look. "You sound kinda surprised..."

"Welllll..." Davies crossed her legs in her trademark style. "I'm not going to sugarcoat it, love. These haven't been easy years for you. In fact, I dare say we've been horrific and cruel, stripping you from your home, plotting out so much of your life, treating you little better than a prisoner. Not to mention the things that were done that I can't...bring myself to mention again." She bowed her head a touch, her voice, lowering. "Max...if I had honestly believed...if I knew then what I know now. I...would not have acted with such naivete."

Max turned her head, studied Davies searchingly for a few moments. There was such sadness in those eyes. The other woman was always emotionally reserved, a product of her enhanced intelligence, and Max assumed cultural upbringing as well. Maybe she'd never get on her knees and beg for forgiveness...but Max could see the shame lingering behind those eyes.

She reached out, to squeeze her hand, just for a moment. Just to indicate what she'd seen.

Davies swallowed, paused, and then switched tracks again, dispersing the catch in her voice as she spoke. "Frankly, I'd begun to suspect that you'd reject the notion of field work out of hand, now that you have some say about it."

"And do I really have some say?" Max asked.

"More than before, to be sure. I'm certainly not going to put you out in the field unless it's truly what you want. It's one of the few areas that I can actually override Martinet." Davies paused. "Well, mostly."

Max gripped the dogtags in her hand possessively. Glanced down at her tightened fist and began to explain, a faraway tone in her voice. "I _should_ hate you all. You're right about that. And I suppose I do hate at least some of you. Others...I mean, you and Alanna, and even Meredith and Jason and Kimmy...you did all you could to make what as always going to be a shitty, fucked up hell of a time easier to endure. Maybe you couldn't save me, but you did the best you could to protect me."

She paused, just long enough to squeeze the tags, and continued, "But I worked hard for this, you know? Really hard. Bled and sweat and cried and all kinds of shit, for it. These tags here? Cost me my childhood, and my parent's memories of me. Maybe it's not what I wanted, but it's all I know how to do now. I wasn't given a choice, but I suffered and endured. And no one can say I didn't earn what I have now. No one."

Davies wrapped a tight, protective arm around her shoulders. "And I don't think anyone _is_ saying that. Even Wright won't begrudge you your proper place now."

Max swallowed, gave a shy, lopsided smile, and craned her head, just enough to the side, to regard the other woman. "Look at everything I managed to do. Look at everything I learned, and did and can do, and will do. Well...you're proud of me then? R-right? "

The other woman appeared completely caught off guard. Then reached over, encircling Max with both her arms, hugging tightly.

With a trembling voice, Davies answered, "As if you were my own, poppet. As if you were my very own."

* * *

The rest of what Davies had to tell her waited until breakfast, the next day.

"So I've managed to work out the beginnings of your new life, outside of Zion Control. From a legal perspective, it's become exceedingly difficult to continue holding you here against your will should you choose to exercise your rights. Despite what the media will tell you, we can only play the 'state secrets' canard so many times in a situation like this. Especially as several key laws that were invoked to initially bring you here are now either off the books, or watered down. There are those, and I won't name names of course, who are, shall we say, displeased by the idea of you living off base, but bollocks to them, yes? Still...there are concessions that I'm afraid you're going to need to make."

Max eyed her warily as she quietly chewed through her waffle and eggs. "Because of course there are. Let me guess: I have to wear some kind of tracker beacon when I'm not here, right?"

Davies sighed. "On the nose, I'm afraid. Also...they'd feel much more comfortable if you assumed an entirely new identity. Let Max Caulfield die at last. Take on a new name, a new backstory. You and I can work together, craft something that works for everyone."

 _Huh. So that's why my name wasn't on the dogtags. Won't be mine much longer..._

Max stabbed hard at her next mouthful and just shook her head, before giving an angry shrug, eyes narrowing. "Yeah. Sure. Why not. That's an easy one. I know damn well what my parents are like these days. Probably don't remember me at all. I'm like a dream or something to them. Now they have their own separate life, off on the other side of the state. Being close to me will just get them hurt all over again. Worse, now that Reese isn't at Martinet's beck and call to fuck with their brains."

She forced herself to calm down, proud that she was able to keep her voice relatively in check.

"Yeah...yeah. Other than that, what else do I really have worth hanging on to? Either in my life, or back in Arcadia...Bay?"

As soon as the words left her mouth, the realization smashed into her with the force of a steel gauntlet. The tears welled up in her eyes, and she bowed her head, sobbing with incredible swiftness.

Davies tentatively reached out, resting a hand on her elbow.

"Max? What is it?"

She called out, mouth full of half-chewed food, throat tight. "What do you think it is? _Who_ do you think?"

The memories of the distant past rushed up to overwhelm her, from the dark recesses of her mind.

 _Maxine sobs, glancing down at her scraped knee. Then back up at the big mean kid who took her favorite doll._

" _G-give it back!" she cries out, her voice faint, weak with indecision. The other kid is way older, like maybe six or even seven! He taunts her, making motions like he's going to tear the head of the toy clean off._

" _Ha ha ha! Crybaby Caulfield. That's what you're name is. Crybaby! Crybaby!"_

 _She doesn't even remember who it was, or what they looked like. In her mind's eye of this moment, they are simply The Villain._

" _You heard her, you dick! Give her her doll back!"_

 _There's another girl. A new girl, one Maxine has never seen before. Saying bad words too! Ooooh! But her blonde hair sparkles in the bright sunlight, and the look on her face is like...like she's Wonder Woman, or Black Canary. Someone who isn't afraid of anything!_

" _Make me!" the boy taunts._

" _Yeah! Yeah I'll make you! You're gonna be sorry!". The supergirl, she moves so quick. Kicks out at his leg, makes him fall down onto his back. She hits him over and over, until he gives up._

" _Okay! Okay! Take it, take it!" he tosses the doll in Maxine's direction, rises up, and then runs away, sniffling. "I...I'm gonna tell!"_

 _The girl with the golden hair kneels down, and gives her the biggest smile._

" _You okay?" she asks._

 _Maxine nods a few times, picks up her toy, gives it a hug._

" _Hey! I like your doll! What's her name?"_

 _She looks down, and shyly whispers. "J-Jem. She belonged to my Aunt, a long long long time ago."_

" _Neat! She's really pretty. Hey! So what's your name?"_

 _Maxine starts to stammer out, "I-it's...M-m-max..."_

" _Max?" the other girl interrupts before she can finish. "Cool! That's like a boys name, but I like it a lot! I'm Chloe."_

 _Maxine...no, it's Max now. That's it. Max is all smiles now, for the other girl._

" _H-hi. You...you wanna be friends?"_

" _Yeah I wanna be friends! C'mon, let's be pirates!"_

 _Chloe...her new friend Chloe, tears off towards the playground, laughing and smiling._

 _She's Max's hero that day. And every day afterwards._

Max sobbed quietly yet inconsolably, her head bowed, resting on her arms, just an inch away from her food.

She trembled, as she forced the words out. "I...I could go and visit her, you know?. Maybe once or twice? I would just wipe it out, afterwards. And each time I saw her, it would be great. Because it'd be like seeing her again for the first time. I mean, who would know? Who would know?"

"Max." Davies said, squeezing her shoulder. "You know...that's not a good ide..."

"I know! I know!" she mourned piteously. "Just...just let me hope for a moment, okay? Just-just let me have my dream for one last second..."

 _I'm so sorry, Chloe. You have no idea how badly I still want to see you. But Cammie is right. I'm a danger to you now. Damn her...damn all these assholes!_

Finally she looked up, glaring at Davies with red, swollen eyes. "You win, okay? You fucking win..."

* * *

 _ **A/N:**_ Hey there, Swanketteers! It's actually Black Swan Saturday again, yay! And I have to say, I do not think I have ever spent as much time editing and redoing a chapter in my entire life as I have with this one, which got broken up into two bits. I definitely think it came out a LOT better for the trouble, and it helped me become more confident in my editorial instinct, but geezus christ is it exhausting too. I probably spent less time actually writing the initial draft. Cory, I feel like I've been taking you for granted, just a bit! *laugh* Believe it or not, I originally intended/tried to write these past six chapter as only one or two. Wow, was that stupid or what?

Ahh...God...what a week, too. I'm not fishing for sympathy, but in some ways, it was one of the worst I've had in a decade or two. Thank God I have some buffer left, because I have not been able to write...but I gotta get off my butt soon and fix that *laugh*

Next week will bring this particular plot arc to its logical conclusion...which again, thank you all for indulging me; I really did not plan to take so much time before reuniting our precious gayngels. Afterwards, I'm afraid it's a good two or three week hiatus, but when we come back from it, it's totally all about bringing Max and Chloe together again! :-D

Finally, I want to thank all my readers and reviewers. September was my best month on record in terms of follows, faves and reads; thank you all for your kind support!

Have a good weekend!


	12. Incident 34

**Sunday, October 6th, 2013. 11:05 PM PDT.  
** **Seattle, Washington**

"I hope you both appreciate this. It's one of the first bottles of rosé Cristal ever produced, and I've been saving it for a special occasion."

Max held the champaign flute out, smiling lightly as Davies poured it half full, before filling up two more for herself and Rodriguez.

"Right then, what shall we toast to?" Davies asked.

Max took a long, luxurious breath through her nose, inhaling the scents of sandalwood and cooking spices that permeated the penthouse apartment she now shared with Rodriguez. It was like heaven, after five years of stale, dry, reprocessed air in the bowels of Zion Control. Turning to glance out the window, the whole of Seattle spread out before her, like a necklace of sparkling jewels.

"To freedom." she finally murmured. "Or at least as close as I'll ever get to it." She glanced down at the separate band locked onto her wrist. Fortunately, they hadn't tried to integrate a tracker permanently into her lifeclock or, God forbid, implant it into her. Yet. It was probably just a matter of time, but at least for today, she could fool herself into thinking she had a life entirely under her own command.

The other two women nodded, each taking a sip; or rather, Max sipped, Davies took a larger but still measured amount, and Rodriguez slammed back half of it in one go.

Max laughed, leaning against the giant picture window, glancing up at the reflection of the lavish loft, the upper half of which was now hers. She wasn't sure how long the arrangement would last, but Rodriguez practically begged her to at least start out rooming with her.

" _It'll be a good way for you to transition you know? Like, how in a real way, you're getting out of prison, and you have to get used to the outside world again."_

She hated to admit it, but the woman who'd become a self-styled big sister to her had one hell of a point. It _was_ a major transition. She never thought the day would come, and she still lived in fear that it was all going to be taken away from her. But then they finally let her go out. Alone.

It was glorious, and it was terrifying. She was equal parts fearful and elated when she went out on her big shopping spree earlier today, purchasing a whole new wardrobe, decorations, furniture. Even got her nails and hair done.

And, oh God, finding out how much money she had to her name now!

" _Shit! There...there's almost a million and a half bucks in this bank account. This...this is mine?!"_

The US Government paid generous tax-free salaries and benefits to their Specials; given their abilities and scarcity, it made sense, but she'd never seen so much money before, let alone ever contemplated having that much herself.

Five years of back pay was a lot. Not to mention her yearly wage was going to get boosted up, now that she was a field agent.

They made her talk to a financial advisor first, before giving her the debit card and checkbook. The ones that now bore her new name, the one she picked out for herself.

Artemis Maxine Salinger.

Okay, maybe it was stupid, pretentious. Weird. But she was thrilled to bits to be able to keep her own first name - sort of, kind of - and went a bit crazy with the rest. She was pretty surprised they let her go with the last name, since it seemed like an obvious connection, but clearly the the appropriate departments weren't staffed with literary buffs. At any rate, the falsified - although if the US Government is producing them, are they really fake? - documentation was going to be in her hands in another day or two.

Before the accounts were fully unlocked, they made her attend a full day course on fiduciary responsibility, investments, and so on. Apparently in the past, a few new employees went a little crazy when they saw how much they were making, and got themselves into trouble. She had to admit that without the sobering discussion, without being made intentionally mindful of her future finances, and how much a dollar really bought, or how quickly money could be mindlessly spent, she might easily have gone out and bought a fancy new car or...

 _...oh my God! I could totally buy a fancy new car! Seriously, what the fuck is a quarter million dollars? That's less than a year's pay for me now! Just one big purchase, that's all I'd want! Or maybe a motorcycle. Maybe a motorcycle _and_ a car. Then I'll need to get a new outfit to go with both..._

Shit. Okay. She was going to need to watch herself after all.

"Are you alright, Max? You seem rather...pensive." Davies asked.

Coming out of her reverie, she shrugged, giving a slight grin. "I'm fine. Just...still getting used to it all. Still can't believe I get to go to bed tonight, in my own place. Wake up, take a shower, have breakfast..."

Rodriguez interrupted her, "Hey, I usually don't eat breakfast here, so you know. It's free at the cafe at work, so I figure, why bother?"

Max laughed brightly, "Yeah, _you_ can eat the same old Starbucks every morning, but Zion food is pretty much everything I ate, day in and day out for the past five years, so fuck that. I'm going to learn how to cook, and make my own stuff. I mean, you cook here sometimes, so obviously you can teach me."

"If you like really spicy shit, yeah, I'm your woman, Max." Rodriguez laughed.

She finished up her drink as Davies walked over to her and said, "Well, it's getting late, so I'll eave you two be. See you bright and early tomorrow. But not too early, yes?" She gave her a warm hug, and added, "I'm very happy to see you finally coming into your own, poppet. Stop by my office around noon, and we'll go over crafting the final details of your new life story."

Max smirked. "I thought I already had that taken care of: I'm a supermodel-slash-MMA instructor-slash-champion horse rider-slash-competitive ballerina. I grew up in the Swiss Alps, my parents were minor Maltese nobility, and..."

Rodriguez burst out laughing, while Davies waggled a maternal finger at her. "You can have precisely none of those things, Agent Salinger." She paused, thoughtfully. "Well, not true, I'm willing to talk about the mixed martial arts. Owning your own cover business isn't a bad idea, and you certainly have access to startup capital."

Max hugged Davies back, and bid her goodnight as she saw the other woman out the door. Then immediately flopped onto the couch, stretching out to her full extent.

She was still there an hour later, blankly staring out at the city. There was so much out there for her now. She'd paid her dues, suffered the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune. She could finally make an exciting and intriguing life for herself.

Riiiight...?

But it felt like that life was strung together betwixt the thin walls of a soap bubble - a S.O.A.P. bubble? - ready to pop at the slightest shift of the breeze. She wasn't convinced that Martinet wasn't looking for some way to take it away from her, lock her down. And do it soon, since the longer she was out here, having her own life, the harder it was to make her disappear.

Or so she hoped.

"Heading to bed _._ You need anything before I go?" Rodriguez asked, clearly dressed for sleeping, if you could call the red satin demi-chemise she wore 'dressing'.

Max half-turned away feeling a confusing heat creep over her face.

"Nah. I'm-I'm good. Fine. Sleep well, Alanna."

"You too, _chica._ "

Max rose up, gazing out the window. It had a southward facing view, and she couldn't help but ponder that somewhere, as the crow flies, Chloe Price was probably out there. Assuming she hadn't moved in the last year and a half. With her blue hair! And new friends, and...

 _...she didn't forget about me. Oh God, she still thinks I totally blew her off, but she never forgot._

She couldn't see her again. But maybe she could send her one last message. A parting coda, to the life that was Max Caulfield. She wasn't sure what to say, other than...than what?

 _I'm okay. I miss you. I'm not sure when I'll be able to see you again, but always remember I'm your friend forever. Have a wonderful life._

Seemed rather cruel though. To both of them. Maybe it was better to let what existed between them lie still, over and done with at last.

She clenched against the tight ache in her chest, tried to push it down, and turned, trudging her way to bed, still partway convinced that she was going to wake back up in her quarters at Zion, the past few days but a dream. Wake up and discover that nothing was getting any better.

* * *

Max didn't sleep well, but for the small price of just a few hours off her life, she could fix that up in a jiffy. Even catch an extra hour to take her time, with the eggs, waffle and coffee. Figure out what to wear. Maybe do up her face. Get ready for work, like so many normal people did across the world.

It wasn't even like she'd need to go to headquarters each and every day, especially over the next few months, as she did whatever she needed to lay down the groundwork for her new life. Maybe not MMA, but gym ownership. She could do that. Pretend she inherited some money, open up a gym, hire competent managers to run the place for her. She could come and go as she pleased, the mysterious, oh-so-young owner, who seemed to know a jillion forms of martial arts.

She looked at herself in the mirror, smiled at what she saw.

Then frowned, darkly.

 _Don't get so comfortable. Don't enjoy it too much. Never forget what they did to you. What they might still do._

She caught a ride with Rodriguez, and checked in at the security office promptly at nine, handing over her tracker wristband. Maybe it was pointless, but it was an act that mattered. If she was going to be a slave in the base, she at least wanted one less piece of slave jewelry to be wearing at the time, since there was pretty much no place in the base for her to hide anyhow.

Unsure what to do until her noon meeting with Davies, Max wandered over to the quartermaster's office, asked if he needed help. She didn't consider Johnny Moreau a close friend, but he was a kind enough older gentleman who occasionally found an extra bar of chocolate or some makeup, on days when she really needed a pick me up during her...protective custody years. Inventorying crates of guns, ammo, and medical supplies was simple enough, and it'd keep her busy for a couple of hours, easily.

Indeed, an hour and a half flew by when Rodriguez came running in at a fierce clip, a look of absolute horror etched on her face. She flung herself, and it was all Max could do to remain upright, and hold onto the other woman.

"Alanna! What the...are you okay?"

 _Holy shit, she's trembling like a leaf!_

It was then that Max noticed the tears down the Latina woman's face, making a mess of her mascara "Oh God... _dios mio_...It's New York. Oh...shit...it's gone. It's gone, Max!" Her voice was shrill, on the edge of hysterics. "I had a brother, he lived in Brooklyn, and it's all fucking gone now!"

Max's head swam. The words she was hearing seemed impossible. Not to mention Rodriguez, how absolutely devastated she was acting. Not once in five years had she seen anything crack that devil-may-care facade of hers.

Not until today.

"C-c'mon, Alanna. I need to see what's going on, okay? I've been here for over an hour, haven't heard anything."

She led the other woman to the nearest display panel, just outside the office. What few staff she could make out in the halls were all gazing at them, transfixed by the scene playing out.

Max approached slowly, her mind refusing to acknowledge what it beheld. It was unreal, like a movie. A nightmare. Too stark, too massive. A terror reserved for the most shocking of big budget summer films. It was out of place, here in the neat and relatively tidy quiet of Reality.

"Ladies and gentlemen..." the male reporter on the CNN feed began. "Let me warn you, the pictures you are about to see are shocking, disturbing. I assure you, they are live and real. At 1:12 PM, Eastern Daylight Time, a massive explosion suddenly erupted, destroying all of New York City, and much of the surrounding metropolitan area.

Lower Manhattan was little more than a smoldering crater, the sea quickly rushing in to fill the void. For untold miles around the blast site, buildings were smashed to rubble, entire skyscrapers lay on their sides, like so many children's toys carelessly scattered to the winds. That was when anything could be seen at all, past the massive dust clouds, mixing with the billowing, choking black smoke rising up from a countless number of fires that spread to the horizon.

Jersey City was in a similar state of ruin, and she could just barely pick out the remains of the Statue of Liberty, now solemnly drifting out to sea.

"C-casualties are predicted to be in the millions. There are reports that the swath of destruction extends as far north as Pleasantville and as far south as Asbury Park...there is no news yet as to the cause of the explosion, though many are assuming this was some sort of terrorist attack involving a nuclear bomb..."

The air around Max was punctuated by sobbing and moans. People clung to each other for comfort.

"Strangely enough, perhaps a small blessing, there appears to be no radioactive fallout. There was a massive gamma radiation burst, followed by an electromagnetic pulse, but beyond that, there are no other signs of an atomic blast. But what else could possibly cause devastation on this scale?"

Max swallowed hard. Her vision narrowed. The oppressive weight of destiny bore down, singularly focused upon her shoulders.

 _Oh...oh God. This is...I can fix this. I can maybe...help prevent...I'm the only one! Oh God! I'm the only one who can save those people! This is what everything has been leading up to!_

She barely listened as the report continued, "President Obama is expected to address the nation in the next ten minutes. The National Guard from the surrounding tri-state area has already been mobilized. Rumor has it that he will declare a state of martial law for New York and New Jersey..."

"Alanna..." Max murmured, then held her out. "Alanna, I have to get to Cammie's office right now. I have to...don't you understand? They're gonna send me back. They're going to send me back, and I'm going to fix this. I promise you, I'm gonna fix this, and you'll never remember this day because...because it'll never happen. I promise you, I'm gonna save your brother!"

Rodriguez nodded fiercely, letting her go. Max flew as fast as she could towards Davies' office. Skidding to a halt, she found Martinet in there with her, the two of them conversing in tones that suggested they were doing their best to keep their calm, and barely succeeding.

They turned to her, Martinet waving her in. Max strode inside as she closed the door behind her.

"I'm assuming you've already seen the news feed, Agent?" Martinet inquired.

She nodded emphatically. "When do you send me back?"

He gave a fraction of a smile: grim, determined. "I knew that would be the first thing you'd ask. Davies is gathering up as much information as possible. I would...expect you'd leave within an hour or two?" He glanced over to the other woman, who gave a nod.

"We can't send her off half-cocked" Davies said. "But every second she's here, is one less second she can go back. I just need to dump the data feeds from PAN-Opticon, along with whatever other sensor and intelligence sources might be useful in helping us to analyze and prevent this from happening."

"Wait...why would you need data from P-O?" Max asked.

Martinet paused, wiping his glasses furiously, before placing them back on his face. "There were signs of an Emergence flare. Something incredible in scope, about a minute or two before the blast..."

"...which according to the data we've been able to gather so far, roughly correlates with...my...God." Davies faltered. "Um...at least fifty megatons. That's...that's right up there with the Tsar Bomba conceptual test back in sixty-one. The largest nuclear explosion in history."

Max was more determined than ever to make sure this day went down a completely different path. She'd go back as many times as she had to, reiterate as many passes of data as needed until Davies and the others found a way of stopping this. Whatever it was.

They had to. _She_ had to. This day, this event...everything she suffered through, over the last five years. All the hurt, the hate and heartache. In the face of this overwhelming cataclysm, everything was justified at long last; finally made _some_ sort of sense. If she could just save those people...

"Casualty reports are predicted to be at least five or six million. Almost as many injured. The only saving grace is that there appears to be no sign of nuclear fallout...like this was some sort of explosion of pure energy." Davies breathed out.

"I...I suppose I should report to the President and the UN what we know of the situation." Martinet said, with a resigned, dull tone in his voice, before leaving the office.

Max watched. Everyone went through the motions. Like this somehow wasn't going away.

 _I'm going to fix this, damnit! I AM._

"I'm...gonna suit up and get ready. I know this is just me going back in time, here on base, but I'm treating this like a serious field mission. So I'll be in Cargo Bay Ten. Just...just like everything we went over with the Storyteller Protocol, right? You come and give me the Edit Order token, and I'll jump immediately."

Max tore off at top speed once again, heading for her equipment locker. She stripped out of her civilian duds, and pulled on her custom-made field uniform, including the felt greatcoat. She then checked out a sidearm and a hold out piece, stuffed a large pocket with emergency nutrition packs, reviewed and re-reviewed Storyteller procedures two, three times over. Maybe it was overkill, preparing like this for what was only going to be a straightforward courier jump, but...

...but she needed to do something to distract her from what was happening. To push the pictures of what she saw out of her mind. To keep from focusing on the millions... _millions_ dead or dying right this minute.

 _You're gonna take it all back, Max. You're gonna save them. Don't shed any tears, don't mourn, because...it's all going away. The world will be saved, and you'll be the only one left who'll even remember this day._

She also needed to keep her mind off the personal gain involved. The hope that maybe if she came through on this, they'd finally...give her room to breathe. Treat her like a real person, accord her some actual respect.

 _I mean, they're getting there, but...but maybe they'll let me go back home, and talk to Chloe. Oh God, if I only got one thing out of this...no medals, no congrats, no praise. Just let me actually see Chloe. And my parents...leave them alone, and let me rebuild some memories with them._

There'd be time enough for her to bask in the expected rewards of a job well done. Now wasn't that time.

Here and now, there was only the mission.

* * *

Suited up and ready to go, Max made her way to the cargo bay, surrounded by a throng of expectant...she wouldn't exactly call them well-wishers, but she knew they were as desperate for her to succeed as she was. She tried to be as reassuring as she could. She made a few brief speeches. Gave hugs of support. Promised everyone that in the end, no one but her would remember, truly remember, this day.

Finally, Martinet walked in, followed closely by Davies.

"Agent Caulfield." he spoke, crisply, and immediately forgetting to address her by her new name. "You are hereby ordered to ensure the safe delivery of this data package to Head Agent Davies and myself, here at Zion Control, twenty-four hours into the past. You know the protocols. You've been trained how to deal with every possible contingency, but I have every confidence that you will arrive safe and sound; with the advanced warning you'll supply us with, we _will_ prevent this from occurring."

Davies handed her the Edit Order token: a hard, black square block of metal, about two inches wide on each side, replete several rubber-sealed data ports. Designed to survive any number of punishing conditions and situations, with the ability to store up to five terabytes of encrypted and compressed data. They cost as much as several Tomahawk missiles for some reason, but if it saved New York City, then it was worth the price.

Max tucked the device safely away in one of her cargo pants pockets, and then nodded. "I...I won't let you down, sir. I'm ready to bring you back as much data, give you as many virtual days as I can, until this is...until this doesn't happen anymore."

He held out his hand, and she took it. He shook it firmly. "I know we can depend on you, Agent. Good luck, and Godspeed."

For a moment, Max was struck dumb; she should absolutely hate the man, loathe him. And under normal circumstances, she knew she did. But there was something about this, the all-encompassing awfulness of it. It was a universal, powerful pain, and however briefly, everyone was on the same side now. All grievances were made petty, all interpersonal disputes forgotten. Max was too young to really remember what it was like when 9/11 occurred; not even quite six yet, but she figured it had to be something like this. Even though October 7th was far more tragic.

Davies added her own words of encouragement. "See you soon, in time for tea, yes? And then later on, when it's all over, and we've saved New York City. You can tell me about it. What this day was like. When the only thing left is a new and curious entry for the Incident catalog."

Max took a deep breath, trying to chase back the continuing sense of surreality. She expected to hear a director yell "Cut!", as if this were all some action movie playing itself out.

She glanced out in the assembled group and noticed that even Nicole was there now. The other agent nodded to her once, stuck out her thumb.

"Kick the past in the ass, kid." Wright called out.

There was no point in belaboring the issue. No need for inspiring speeches. There was only the rewind.

She started immediately.

It was going to be a strain; she'd only pulled this trick off two or three times before, and it always left her weak as hell. Words and devotionals to fighting to get the job done were one thing, but if she had to repeat this cycle three or four times, it was going to be really problematic for her.

She peeled back the seconds, into minutes. Then into hours. One hour...two...three. She was starting to pass the moment the blast occurred.

 _New York City. Gotta save New Yor..._

And then searing pain sliced through her. A jolt, like smashing against a wall composed of electric sparks and barbed wire. It lanced through her, boiled across her nerves. Physically she was undamaged, but the pain...

...oh God, the pain!

She felt herself falter, lose control of the rewind process. But she couldn't! She had no idea what the hell just happened, _why_ it happened, but she had to go back as far as she could.

 _New York! New York City! Must...get back...help...save..._

Max held out for as long as she could, her vision swimming, going black around the edges. The worst of the pain had subsided, but something was still wrong. She was...slowing down. For lack of a better word, she was losing her ability to continue rewinding, like a jet plane slowly but inevitably suffering from one engine failure after the other. It was just a matter of time before she was going to stop...whether she liked it or not.

 _New York...keep...focus...the city...the mission!_

A terrible lurching completely disrupted her thoughts. She felt herself shatter into a million, billion fragments, as she struck another 'wall'. Felt her pieces swept up in an unrelenting quantum wind, and scattered to God only knows where.

She'd have found the entire process almost fascinating, had she managed to stay conscious for it

* * *

 **Sunday, October 6th, 2013. 11:09 PM PDT.  
** **Seattle, Washington**

"Are you alright, Max? You seem rather...pensive." Camilla asked.

Coming out of her reverie, Max shrugged, gave a slight grin. "I'm fine. Just...still getting used to it all. Still can't believe I get to go to bed tonight in my own place. Wake up, take a shower, have breakfast..."

And then she was gone.

Camilla and Rodriguez both gasped in shock.

"What..what the...the hell just happened?!" Rodriguez called out, trying her best to keep the shock and fear out of her voice.

"No clue." Camilla replied. "The most immediate thing I can think of that would cause her to just vanish is crossing back against her own timeline, and there's only one major reason why..."

 _Oh bloody fucking hell._

"We need to get back to base immediately, see if something showed up in the monitoring room. Or if Max has tried to contact us. There's protocols in place for this sort of thing."

They turned and ran out of the apartment together.

Twenty minutes later, Rodriguez was burning rubber, driving down the streets of Seattle at a frenetic clip, while Davies spoke on an encrypted line back to the Zion Control monitoring room.

"Kimmy, I need you to tell me exactly what you're seeing right now. Anything? Any Emergence events, any activity from the temporal sensors?"

Villanova's quiet voice was thin and reedy. "I-I'm not sure how to describe it, exactly. There's definitely anomalous readings coming from New York City; massive fluctuations of neutrinos over Manhattan, differences in their atomic clock readings compared to ours, just enough to be outside the acceptable tolerance range...ummm...uh...not sure, but I think their localized speed of light is off? Small but significant fraction, so that's something, right?"

Rodriguez grit her teeth, ignoring the police car that had started pursuing them.

Camilla glanced up at the rear view mirror and sighed. Just what they needed right now.

"And we're getting something more now, seismology readings." Villanova continued. "It looks like a pattern is forming. Small but repeated earthquakes. Not big, not enough that most people would notice yet, but...but there are shocks almost three minutes apart. Oh! And CFI is going up...mostly. It's spiking and dropping in a way that matches the earthquakes, but it's creeping upwards."

Camilla was thankful for the latest round of sensor and software enhancements made to PAN-Opticon. Damocles had learned a lot in the five years since Max's Emergence.

"Right then, I think I've heard enough. Kimmy, get on the phone with Wright, and have her assemble a team, then contact McChord AFB, and tell them to prep our transport. I want us wheels up in no less than two hours. If the Director happens to ask, tell him I'll be contacting him shortly."

She ended the call and then glanced over her shoulder. Another Seattle PD car had joined the chase. Beacons were now flashing, alarms sounding.

"I'll need to put in a call and have them taken off our tail. You just keep heading straight for Tacoma and don't let up." Davies instructed.

Rodriguez flashed a predatory smile, weaving through traffic as she sped up towards the highway. "Oh yeah. This is my favorite part of the job." She paused and then asked. "So what the hell's going on? What happened to Max?"

"Still not sure." Camilla replied. "But I suspect all of our answers are in Manhattan."

* * *

 **Sunday, October 6th, 2013. 11:09 PM PDT.  
** **Arcadia Bay, Oregon**

She suddenly appears. Face pale, hair disheveled. The felt greatcoat wrapped around her, offering its protection against the bitter chill of the early Autumn air.

She's unsure of her present location A...a junkyard? Someplace refuse is cast aside, left, forgotten. It reminds her...

...reminds her of the weight in her arms. The body. The one wrapped up in oilcloth. Small. Smaller than her, but still large enough to be a...

"J-just...just like the rabbits." she breathes out, a distant, glassy look haunting her eyes. "Just like the rabbits" she repeats. Over and over again.

But not exactly like the rabbits. Bigger. Heavier.

She wanders this way and that, the length and breadth of the dump, looking for something. Some...place. Soft enough. Clear enough. Glances down when she think's she's found it.

She puts the body down on the ground and begins to dig away at the dirt with her hands.

"I-it was a really nice service, Chloe. Really nice service. Nice service, Chloe. It was...it was really nice. Nice service, Chloe. Your dad...your dad..."

She continues to ramble; despite her fugue state, she can tell that hands alone won't be enough. Amongst all the scrap and discarded pieces, it doesn't take her long to locate something that makes an effective shovel.

She digs for an hour. Maybe two. All the while, she expects to find...something? Treasure? Another body? She can't shake the notion she's about to add to the pile, turn the junkyard into the site of a mass grave. But ultimately, the hole is finished, and there's nothing in there. Nothing at all but a gaping cavity, ready to be filled.

Slowly, reverently, she takes the wrapped form, and lowers it down, six feet under.

"S...sorry. Sorry. So sorry...sorry. Just like the rabbits. Just like...the rabbits." Her voice is a melange of dead calm and near hysterics.

Another half an hour, and she's finished her self-appointed task at last. The ground is freshly disturbed, but flattened. She leaves the grave otherwise unmarked. Unceremoniously drops the shovel, and then starts to walk along, following the train tracks into town.

"Chloe..." she whispers out.

"The service. It was nice, Chloe. It was...nice."

She trudges along, her eyes unfocused, but her body clearly possessed of purpose and intent. Her feet know where to take her, even if what's left of her mind doesn't fully comprehend.

She tilts her head, listening to a question that only she can hear being asked.

"The future, Chloe." she says to herself.

"The future."

* * *

 _ **A/N:**_ Hey there Swanketeers, it's Black Swan Saturday yet again. This concludes the second major story arc of the series, so it's a good place to take our hiatus. Arc Three begins in two or three weeks, and features one part Max, one part Chloe, and a hella lotta awesome together!

My promise to you is that we will publish again on Halloween, if not before. As I've mentioned before, life has been crazy and hectic for me, doubly so for Cory, but I'm actually managing to write again, and have another chapter done already this week. With a little luck, I might be back to six or seven chapters stored up in the buffer before we start publishing again, and that would be a big help, to be sure! As it is, all of Monday is written, and I'm about a third of the way through Tuesday, which is probably going to be the biggest day, in terms of things going on to write about. But we'll see. :-)

So again, I want to thank all the awesome, awesome support that you have been sending our way. I'm really pleased with how well received things have been, by and large. You've all been wicked patient and indulgent, waiting until we get our Gayngels together.

Anyhow, we all have the final, fateful episode of Life Is Strange coming up...I'm really, really hoping that something good happens, but not so good that I feel I have to somehow try to address it or deal with it in a way that makes me change a bunch of this series going forward *laugh*

 **Rowanred81** turned me onto this video of Chloe singing the chorus to Metric's "Black Sheep". It's so awesome!: rowanred81 . tumblr post/130775628194/surroundedbybluestars-summerfelldraws

(Just be sure to repair the link for obvious reasons. Also: did not realize her voice actress was Ash from HAWP.)

One final note: the few readers following Black Swan who also read my Once More Unto The Breach ME series may remember Artemis Salinger as the pseudonym used by a character faking her death. For the purposes of this chapter, it was originally a first draft placeholder until I thought of something better. But it occurred to me that this fake name was even better suited to Max. She's both a divine huntress of sorts and shares a name with JD Salinger's most famous charcter. So I decided to keep it.

Okay, now I'm just rambling. Have a great rest of the weekend!


	13. Send Me An Angel

Chloe pulled her beater of a pick-up truck into the parking lot at Blackwell Academy. Glanced over and groaned as she saw Frank's RV just across from her.

 _Great, now you're crashing_ here _? Guess this is good a place as any for you to sell weed, but damn, man, don't shit where you eat._

Gently banging her head against the steering wheel, she grumbled aloud. "Makes sense. You're the reason I'm here. Doing this shit today."

 _God. How did it fucking come to this? My life's hit rock bottom. Not gonna have a life, period, if I don't pay him his money back, but then what? What else I got going on that's so great? Just...just gotta get this shit paid off. Then I swear, I am gone baby. I am soooo gone, Arc-hate-ya Bay!_

 _I just need a fair shake. A chance. Something to come along and fix my crappy, broken mess of a life. Is that such a big thing to ask for, God? That you send me a fucking angel?_

There was a weird shift in the air next to her, a sudden sagging in the truck, like extra weight was added, completely out of nowhere.

"Chloe..." a voice husked.

Someone else.

Someone not her, but in the truck with her.

"FUCKSHITAHHWHATTHEHELLADAMNCHRIST!"

Chloe screamed, grabbed the door handle and bailed, spilling out of her truck, and onto the asphalt. Quickly bounding to her feet, and resisting the urge to just run away and never look back, she grabbed the outer door frame and poked her head in.

"What the fucking hell are you doing in my goddamn truck, asshole?! Get out now or I _swear_ I'm going to..."

She stopped short, her ramblings derailing to an abortive halt as realization quickly blossomed.

The hair was shorter, the face gaunt. Eyes dark and sunken, like she hadn't slept in a week. And she was older, about five years or more. But even after all that time, Chloe knew exactly who she was looking at. Call it unthinking instinct.

"M-Max? Max Caulfield?"

The other woman - and yes, holy shit, it totally was her! - turned and gave her the merest wisp of a shy, sleepy smile. Her eyes were glazed over, more looking in Chloe's general direction, as opposed to at her, per se.

"Chloe. Found you. Hi...found you." she whispered.

Chloe hopped back in, slammed the door shut behind her. "Jesus. Max! I should...just...hella kick your ass up and down the block for that trick. And then I should kick it some more for you not...ever. Like, could you have written me once!? Or call, or...or..." She sputtered to a halt, the initial surge of fear and adrenaline burning their way through her system. She was calmer now, but still trembling.

 _Great...great thanks. Because more stress was just what I needed on this glorious Monday._

Max slumped bonelessly against the passenger-side window. "Tired. Sorry. Tired, Chloe. Had to come, had to...come here. Safe. Need to sleep. Can't sleep someplace not safe. Can't...can't believe I found you. So happy...happy you're here, Chloe."

Chloe tried to harden her heart, tried to remember that this was the woman, her best fucking friend on the whole shitty planet, who just up and let her one day, and never called back. She should be furious, she should kick her out, make her beg and plead for a chance.

But...

 _Oh Max. Max, look at you. What the hell happened?_

"God, you're a wreck. Are you...are you tweaking? Or like...crashed out from tweaking?"

She did kinda have that look about her.

 _Yeah. Go Team Chloe. Max chooses this moment, of all possible times, to pop back into my life, and now I find out she's a burned out meth head._

Max rolled over, gathered her big coat around her tighter, and muttered. "'m not...not on drugs. You should talk...should talk...makin' me hide in the closet when...what's a...where is? Shit...not here, not here..not now. Later. Not now. So...tired."

Chloe couldn't deal with this.

Correction: she couldn't deal with it right this second.

 _Damnit! Of course I want to find out what the hell happened. Maybe even help her. After she gives me a hella ton of answers! Hmm...maybe I can wrap this up real quick..._

"Max," she asked. "Serious question: Do you have three grand that you could just give me?"

 _Well hell, it's worth a shot at least, right?_

"Yeah...yeah...I'm totes rich. Can't...can't touch my money though. They'll know. Sorry."

With a shake of her head and a slow, laborious roll of her eyes Chloe snorted in disgust.

 _Paranoid delusions? Check. Yup. Totally an extra from Breaking Bad._

"Fine. Max, as much as I wanna grill you and say things like 'What the shit, why u no call?' I have to take care of some Big Girl stuff. So you just...just sleep it off in here, okay? Don't let anybody touch my truck though, especially Frank. Uh...trust me, you'll know him if you see him."

Max was mostly asleep by this point, half snoring, half talking. "Wha'? 'kay. Have fun...mmmm...with...shakedown. Try to duck, when he pulls out the g-"

And like a light switch being thrown, she passed out.

Chloe locked the doors and marched towards the school. If she walked fast enough, she could probably still grab that asshole Nathan Prescott for their meeting in the bathroom. Lay down her demands. Easy in, easy out.

 _...cause...cause I'm not gonna take any shit from anyone anymore! Especially not the likes of him! Especially not..._

 _...fuckfuckfuck, I can't believe Max is back! I can't believe Max Caulfield is back, crashing from a drug binge or something, and sleeping in my truck! That is literally the last thing I would have counted on happening today, or any day._

She tried to focus on the heavy business ahead of her, but she couldn't resist one giddy little skip. Just for a second.

Chloe made her way quickly across campus, acutely aware of how much she stood out amongst the other students. The last thing she needed was for one of her old teachers to recognize her, or worse yet, the Step-Dick. It was a risk coming here, but she needed to grab Nathan where he had to keep up at least a modicum of public respectability. Put him on the spot.

 _It's an easy plan. What could possibly go wrong?_

She paused, as she spotted something out of the corner of her eye. Worn, weathered and faded, but still somehow hanging on, was one of the old MISSING posters she'd put up a few months back.

Back when she was still looking for Rachel Amber. Back when she thought the worst, and back when she cared at all what happened to that ungrateful bitch.

She grabbed the poster and viciously ripped it down, crumpling it into a ball, and then shoving it into a nearby trashcan, as she stalked her way towards the school building.

 _I thought you were dead! Or worse! But it turns out you just ran off, and didn't tell me! Going through 'heavy shit' or whatever. Bitch, I cried for you! Freaked out, lost sleep, spent hours begging people for any information they had, searching this whole damn town and two others next to it. I went into hella debt for you, but you were just running around, probably having fun and laughing at stupid me. Did you even thank me? No...just all...soooorreee, you shouldn't have done that...and...sorry, I can't see you for a while and...whatever! All said over the phone, didn't even have the guts to visit me personally. You ever see me again, and you wanna make it even, just pay me, whore!_

Three weeks now, since that out-of-the-blue phone call from Rachel, and Chloe was still furious about it. Maybe even more so, now that she'd had all that time to nurse the wounds, feed the grudge.

 _Swear I'm gonna kick your fucking ass the next time I see you._

Life sure was strange though. Her new shitty best friend finally emerges and bails on her, and just like that, her old shitty best friend pops back up.

 _At least there's some kinda. Symmetry? And at least Max...well I don't know what her excuse is, but I...I wanna believe she's got a good one. A valid one. Thinking about that Christmas with her folks a couple years back...brrr! And then...I had that dream...or something? Last year. I swore I dreamed some guy came up and told me Max was in a prison, or...God, it's so weird, I feel like I should remember it better._

She looked up at the clock as she walked into the school. Grinned to herself as she saw Nathan slip into the girls bathroom, just like her note told him to. She'd give him just a minute or two more to stew, and then she'd zip in and hit him hard. A little luck, the pencil dick would be coughing up serious cheddar, and her troubles would be over.

Well, diminished, at any rate.

She took the time to peer down the hallways, make sure that there wasn't anyone else coming. Including and especially David. When she was certain the coast was clear, she walked in, ready to run the show.

She fixed her best 'I don't got no time for your shit, pretty boy' stare on Nathan as he looked up at her from the sink where he'd been leaning over. Then slammed the door behind her and poked her head in the various stalls.

"I hope you checked the perimeter, as my step-ass would say. Now let's talk bidness."

Nathan tried his best bravado. "I got nothing for you."

Happy that all the stalls had been checked, and that it was just the two of them alone, she turned back and closed the distance between them, saying, "Wrong. You got hella cash."

"That's my family, not me." he demured.

"Oh, boo hoo hoo, poor little rich kid."

 _Not buying any of your excuses, sicko._

"I know you've been pumping drugs 'n shit to kids around here." Chloe accused.

 _Probably you and Frank are in it together. Kinda fitting, me blackmailing you for cash to pay him back._

Chloe rounded across and over, until she was leaning on the same sink as he was. She started to push her face closer into his, getting into his personal space, trying to assert her dominance over the situation.

"I bet your respectable family would help me out if I went to them."

She hated to make that Plan B. Sean Prescott has a nasty reputation, and he was just as likely to have her bounced out of town as to pay her hush money.

 _No...Nathan is the weak link. I just gotta squeeze hard enough, until he's almost about to break._

She was close enough to him now, he had to be feeling her breath on his face, as she started to drive her points home.

"Man, I can see the headlines now..."

Nathan twitched. "Leave them out of this bitch."

 _Oh yeah. I got you. I soooo got you. Now to bring the heat._

She started to push him around, using the physical contact to punctuate her points as she raised her voice. "I can tell everybody that Nathan Prescott is a punk ass who begs like a little girl and talks to himself..."

Then shit turned deadly, in a fraction of a second.

A gun came out of his jacket, leveled at her. Right between the eyes.

"You don't know who the fuck I am, or who you're messing around with!"

And just like that, the fulcrum point shifted. Now Nathan had all the power. And she...

 _Oh shit! Oh holy shit! Where..._

She raised her hands up.

"Where'd you get that?"

He forced her back against the wall, one arm preventing her escape, the other ready to press the pistol against her stomach.

"What are you doing?" she cried out. "C'mon, put that thing down!"

She reached out, trying to hold the gun back, away from her.

He started to lose it. Thumping against the wall, his voice rising and falling in cadence.

"Don't...ever try to tell me what to do! I'm so _sick_ of people trying to control me."

 _Shitshitshitshitshit! Oh man! Oh...oh God. He's sick! Way worse than I thought. I don't get it! How is he so...fuckfuckfuck. Okay Chloe. Okay, you have to get out of this!_

Her heart was jackhammering in her chest. She could feel her life measured in seconds.

She had to make an appeal to what was left of his sanity. That he'd regret it if he took it too far. Seriously, how the hell did he think he would get away shooting her in the fucking bathroom? His family was rich, but not that rich!

"You are gonna get in hella more trouble for this than drugs."

"Nobody would ever miss your punk ass, would they?!" he cried out. The madness in Nathan's eyes told her that she had one chance. One last card to play, before he shot her stone dead.

Suddenly, Max was there. If Chloe didn't know better, she'd swear her friend appeared out of thin air. It stunned her stupid, kept her from reacting. She could hear Nathan try to fire the gun, but nothing happened.

Chloe looked down, saw that Max had jammed her pinky behind the trigger. She grabbed Nathan by the scruff of the neck and slammed him against the wall, right between the bathroom sinks. She lifted one knee up, used her body weight against his spine and kept him pinned down. One hand was wrapped around his shoulder, cupping his mouth. The other...

Chloe wasn't sure, but it looked like some sort of vicious martial arts move, one that hurt him bad. He screamed against Max's hand, and let the gun go. She pulled him back and slammed him against the wall again, leaning up close and hissed savagely into his ear, barely able to hold back the venomous hatred soaking her voice.

"You. Will. Never. _Ever!_ Hurt her." There was a seriously possessive tone in Max's words.

Chloe's hand flew up to her mouth as she witnessed the ferocious, half-insane warrior woman that'd once been her sweet, shy, best friend. It was still hard to tell through the coat, but enough of it fell away now that she could see a huge, killer pistol strapped to her thigh. Not to mention the muscles Chloe could make out through whatever weird uniform Max was wearing. No wonder she was absolutely dominating him right now. Between the moves and her strength, there was no way he could fight her off.

Chloe was finally coming back to her senses. She'd been half a second away from dying, seriously, literally dying, and Max saved her. But now, she was also absolutely convinced that Max was ready to kill Nathan Prescott.

For her.

It was...crazy. And kinda cool...no...epic awesome. Horrific and scary. And hot.

 _Hella hot._

Wait, what?

 _Chloe! Get a fucking grip! Shit is getting out of control!_

Max pulled out a black metal wallet, flipped it open and shoved a badge into his face. "See this? See it! Tell me what it says, dead man!"

She released his mouth enough for him to stammer. "D...Department of Home...shit! You bitch! I don't know who you are, but there's no way..!"

She covered his mouth again. "That's okay! Don't know who you are either." She tilted her head, as if listening to the air. "Prescott? Nathan? Like Prescott Prescotts? Don't care. See this? I'm a fucking Federal Agent. We can put little bitches like you in a deep dark hole, and no, all your family money isn't gonna save you! Believe me, I know! I seen it happen!"

And then Max's voice took on a cold, steely, emotionless quality. Where before she was rambling and disjointed, she now seem possessed of a singular purpose, as she smoothly withdrew her pistol, and pressed the barrel up underneath Nathan's chin. Cocked the hammer back, drawing the action out to play up the menacing effect, as the sound sharply echoed off the tile.

"I'm only going to say this once, Nathan: I don't care who you are, or what you think you can do to us. This fight? You just lost it. Accept that much. You get to walk away from it alive, this once. Pray...pray you don't _fucking_ run into me again. Ever." Max leaned in and whispered almost intimately into his ear. "I don't give second chances."

Nathan was hyperventilating against Max's hand, whimpering. What his lips couldn't say, his eyes, starting to glisten with tears, practically begged.

Chloe reached down, grabbing the gun Nathan dropped. She didn't want to have to use it on Max. Fun was fun, right? But she looked out of control. If it weren't for the fact that she could see, from her angle, that Max's finger was behind the trigger, keeping the pistol from firing, she'd swear Nathan was about to get his head blown off.

 _How the hell did she get here? I left her asleep in the truck! She do a rail of meth and run over or something?_

Trying to keep her voice steady, Chloe said, "Max! Max, let him go...c'mon. I appreciate the assist but...but we gotta go!"

Max glanced over her shoulder and nodded. Chloe could see it in her eyes, the hard focused light of cold calculation evaporating, as she returned to her previous mode of rambling, "Yeah. Yeahyeahyeah. Gotta...go. Time. Time keeps slipping. Oh wait shit no, don't go yet. Oh shit wait, he ran off and told...security guard? Oh shit wait...wait. Wait wait wait. Got something for this."

She placed Nathan in some sort of complicated headlock, easily resisting his attempts at struggle. In less than fifteen seconds, he passed out.

"He's not dead." Max answered, before Chloe could even ask. "Help me. Stall. We have to put him in. Give us time, make a getaway." She then started to try and do a deadman lift on him. "Chloe...c'mon...!"

She grabbed Nathan's legs, and the two of them quickly dumped him into a girls stall.

Max tilted her head towards her. "What?!"

Chloe held up her hands, "I didn't say anything, Max."

"No...not yet. What? Seriously? Okay, finefinefine, we don't have time to argue. Take...TAKE it..no...no just take the...yes, the fucking cash. No, right, yes, I'LL do it." Chloe watched as Max reached into Nathan's jacket, extracting a fat, fancy wallet. Liberated all the bills from it, and then tossed it back into his lap, before jamming the wad of money in her face.

Chloe didn't have to ask twice. Her eyes bugged out as she started to try and count it all.

"Shit! Yeah! Score!" Chloe called out jubilantly. There must be...like..."

"One thousand, two hundred, fifteen bucks. Yeah. Hide it. Need to leave. Now. Go to your truck."

Max pulled out what looked like a combat knife.

"Uh...M-max? You're not gonna cut on..."

Before Chloe could finish, the other girl closed the stall door, then used the edge of the blade to turn the locking mechanism override plate, barring the door so that it couldn't easily be opened. Depending on how long he was knocked out, chances were likely no one would find him now. Not until he came to.

 _...hella cool! For a tweaker bitch, you're like a crazy fighter or spy, Shit! Maybe she ran off and became an enforcer like for some cartel. Or...no no. She's a vigilante. Max the Mad, sticking up for her homegirls!_

"Gogogogogo." Max hissed at her. "To the truck. Be behind you. Gotta check on a few things. Just go already!"

She didn't have to be told twice, as she dashed out of Blackwell, at least as casually as she could, making sure to hide the gun in the waistband of her pants, and the cash in her beanie before making her escape.

 _Oh. Wow. God. Yes. Cool. So cool! I got over a third of what I need to pay Frank back, and a badass pistol with Nathan's prints all over it. And maybe we can shake him down for the rest later. Ha ha! Yeah! Yeah that went great!_

Her painfully pounding heart had a different opinion. She got lucky. Stupid, shit ass fucking lucky. And if Max hadn't left the truck, she'd just be stupid shit ass dead.

"Weirdest. Fucking day. Ever."

Chloe jumped into her truck, and waited for Max to arrive. Drummed her fingers impatiently. She was getting itchy to bug out, peel and burn rubber. The longer she hung around Black-hell, the more likely she was gonna get busted.

She glanced out the front window, trying to spot Max.

"Chloe..." the other girl breathed out, once again seeming to appear out of thin air.

Crazy spooked, Chloe started to petulantly smash her fists against the steering wheel, and yelped, "Fuck! Fuckfuckfuckfuck stop it! Stop freaking me out, and going all ninja!"

Max blinked, but not like a normal person. First one eye, then the next, like her lids were out of synch. Gave a cracked smile, and murmured, "But...but you like it. It's cool. You think so."

Chloe held her gaze on Max's, felt a giddy rush well up in her stomach, burst up into her throat, and then escape in peals of laughter.

 _There_ was the Max she knew. Still in there, still totally...her. Giggling along with her.

"Oh. Shit. Ha. Ha ha, yeaaaah!" Chloe admitted, trying to control her laughing. "Dog, now that I know you're not here to peel my skin off and wear it or some crazy shit, that whole ninja-fu _is_ awesome. Gotta teach me that trick."

She started the truck, and drove away as fast as she could get away with.

Max gave a pout, actually looking like she was hurt. She curled up in her seat, resting her head against the window. "Would...would never hurt you, Chloe. Best friend. You're mine. Best. Missed you. Did you get my letters? No...no they...they wouldn't have. Never believed them in the end. Never believed they would send...shit." Her eyes started to shut. "I'm so tired, Chloe."

"Max, how long have you actually been..."

"Days? Weeks? Dunno. A lot. Something's...wrong. In my brain, Chloe. Pieces slowly coming back, though. Gonna be fucking weird when it finally happens. Like a..." she started to make a high pitched woosh noise, and pantomimed her fist, waving in the air, and drunkenly smashing into her fist. "Be nice, okay? Be nice when I don't remember, okay? 'Cause...cause that was cool. You have to tell me the story, of how cool it was."

Chloe sighed, glanced sideways at her friend. Her crazy, best friend.

Brushing aside a few blue bangs, Chloe asked, "Uh...so just...out of curiosity, Max, why did you follow me into the bathroom? Not that I mind, obviously, but.."

Max murmured sleepily, "Didn't mean to. Not at first. Slept a little, woke up. You were still gone. Wandered over, into the school. You were dead. Shot. Cops were there, taped the place off. Couldn't believe it, totally freaked. Blood everywhere. Eyes were still open, and you had this look...like...you were dead. But no one told you."

Chloe felt a cold lump, hard and chill, sitting in her stomach as she listened.

Max continued, "Mmmm...went back. Had to. Went back, saved you. Just like I did it for him, before. Twice now. Saving Prices. How it started, how it continues. Funny...that. Ha ha ha. No wait, not funny ha ha, just weird."

Chloe nodded once, giving Max a sideways glance. "Uh...huh. Yeah...yeah that's real...funny. How shit happens."

 _Ooooh...kayyy. Sorry I asked!_

She thought it best to leave Max be for the rest of the trip.

It didn't take too long for the two of them to get to her house. Chloe glanced up at her bedroom window, then over to Max, wondering how the hell she was going to sneak the other girl in, just in case Joyce was home; she couldn't quite remember if her mom was working today or not.

Max snapped out of whatever half-slumber she'd drifted into and muttered sleepily, "Shityeahrightnoproblem, I'll sneak up."

She hopped out of the truck and scrambled on the top of it before leaping onto the roof, then in through the bedroom window. It was the sort of thing Chloe always considered trying, but the distances and coordination involved, it freaked her out too much to go through with.

 _Fuck! Max!_

From the bedroom window, Max waved. "Hiyeee!" she called out, sounding half-drunk. "Chloe, I found your room! It's still here, but different!"

Chloe's jaw dropped as she slid out from the truck, gazing up, absolutely dumbstruck.

"H-holy. Shit Max, are you _really_ a ninja?" Chloe called out, while still trying to keep her voice down.

With a childish giggle, Max answered, "Noooo...boys are called ninjas, girls are called kunoichi! C'mon, I neeeeed...to crash."

 _That...was kind of a non-sequitur._

Chloe ran inside the house, dashed up the stairs to her room, and quickly locked the door behind her, finding Max already spread out over the entire bed, face down, almost like she was trying to hug it. Taking a huge breath of air in her nose, she murmured, "God...yesss...I'm back. Oh God, I'm back. Like a dream, Chloe. Dream come true. I came back home. Back to you. S'all I ever wanted. You and me Che...you and me, the way it was meant to be."

Max reached out with her hand, and Chloe took it, without even thinking. Smiled, despite herself, and carefully sat on the edge of the bed. "You should sleep, Max. Sleep, and then...you can tell me your whole 'what the fuck' story from the past five years."

Max nodded once, her eyelids fully closing. "Feels good, Chloe. Safe. Haven't felt safe like this...been so long."

She immediately began to snore.

* * *

Chloe pulled over a milk crate so that she could sit down while she admired...er...studied the girl crashed out on her bed.

 _Look at her...look at her! This is crazy. Five years down the road, and she busts in, shakes everything up. Heh. She's still cute though. I remember when we had a slumber party, and she was the first to pass out...just like this. Like she's doing, right now._

Chloe glanced over her bedroom, and for a moment, had a flash of how it was back then, before the modern version resolidified. Certainly it was a lot less...

...angry.

She wondered what Max would think of it. Of her. Assuming she could ever be cogent and able to think, you know...like normal people. Would she be shocked? Sad?

 _I mean, not that I need your approval or that you have any right to judge me. I still don't know yet, if I should be absolutely fucking pissed at you. I still don't know your story. You say you wanted to write, say you couldn't, or...I don't know. Did I hear it right? Did I remember it? Hmmm...maybe it's time to try and get some answers._

Carefully, Chloe leaned over, and began to flip Max over, hoping that she was zonked out enough to not wake up, or at least stir only a bit. It took a good five minutes of on and off nudging, until Max suddenly snorted and slumped onto her back the rest of the way. This caused her large coat to fall open, exposing her uniform.

Chloe started to poke at various parts on the tunic, and muttered. "Weird...feels squishy but...not?" Traced her fingers over the patch on the shoulder, narrowing her eyes. Smirked at the piece strapped to Max's hip.

 _Man, I may not know guns, but I know what a Desert Eagle looks like. Geezus, what the hell kind of law enforcement agent carries a hand cannon that big around?_

She carefully reached into an inner pocket, managing to fish the badge holder out. The curious part of her wanted to keep searching but she couldn't bring herself to do it; it felt too much like she was violating her. Her privacy. Max would tell her whatever she wanted to when she finally woke up, and Chloe had to respect that.

 _On the other hand_...

Chloe flipped open the badge holder and suppressed the urge to whistle low. It was heavy, definitely chunky, high quality metal. If it was a replica or a fake it certainly felt right.

 _Not that I would know..._

The badge itself was expectedly shield shaped, with a crouching eagle at the top. Where she figured it would be gold, it was onyx instead, with silver and red highlights. The top had a bar which read **Homeland Security Investigations.** A similar bar at the bottom read: **S.O.A.P Special Agent**.

The holder itself had two parts, and there was a placard on the bottom half, which read:

 **AGENT NAME:** Salinger, Artemis Maxine  
 **DEPARTMENT:** Homeland Security  
 **DIVISION:** Specials Oversight And Administration Project  
 **BRANCH:** Damocles Initiative  
 **CLEARANCE:** Exodus-4

 _Salinger? Artemis? WTF, this isn't even her badge!? What did you do, Max, mug an actual government spook or something and take her identity? Oh...wait. It_ does _says Maxine. Um...maybe she had to change her name or something? Huh. Artemis is kinda cool though..._

Noticing the dogtags around Max's neck, Chloe gently fished them up, glancing over the embossed text.

 _Flashback? What the hell is this, some kind of club nickname? Again, with the same weird Salinger name._

Despite everything Max had done, despite everything Chloe witnessed this morning, Occam's Razor glinted sharply in her mind. What was easier to believe: that Max went nuts and got into crazy, creepy cosplaying and took it way too far, or she was actually a secret government agent?

She walked over to her laptop and flopped down into the chair. A year or two ago, she'd gotten big into torrenting movies, and Justin helped her set up this thing called TOR. Apparently, it would make it really hard for the Feds to track her on the Internet, which was great because what she was about to do, she didn't want them to easily discover. She didn't know how TOR worked, just how to turn it on. A few clicks, and she was online, pulling up her favorite search engine. Then proceeded to type in a few search terms.

 **SPECIALS SOAP DAMOCLES INITIATIVE**

She wasn't all that surprised when the only hits that came up were either Transformers cartoons wikis, detergent ads, Greek literature, role playing groups, and...conspiracy theory sites.

 _Shit, Max. I really...I kind of wanted to believe. But this story is starting to look more and more like you getting crazy into drugs and then losing your grip on reality._

Still, she clicked on one of the links, just to check it out, for a place called The Order of Cincinnatus. Some sort of clearinghouse site for any number of 'secret government conspiracies', there was even a section completely devoted to this S.O.A.P thing. She checked out part of the rambling introductory FAQ, which was updated over the last year apparently:

" _Okay, here's the real history. As we all know, in 1948, Albert Einstein was able to use Enrico Fermi's initial research to create the first artificially produced orichalcum, which the ancient Atlanteans used to power most of their technology. But what most of us don't know is that the Illuminati confiscated the small stockpile he created, and used that in 1952 to form the core of a machine that was supposed to let them completely control reality (see the link on this site for Project Yggdrasil). At first, Yggdrasil worked, and they were able to recreate their own super soldiers...but then the Trilateral Commision got wind of it, and teamed up with the Chinese Tongs and the RAND Corporation, attacked the secret facility where Yggdrasil was stored, and destroyed it. Believe me, none of those guys are sweethearts, but they couldn't allow the Barvarians to get away with such a blatant game changer._

 _And that was that._

 _OR SO THEY THOUGHT._

 _The fools didn't know what they were playing with, and all that messing around created a scar in the fabric of reality. As a result, random glitches in the holographic space/time matrix of the universe occur, and they create people with quantum level abilities to manipulate reality itself, just like the Ancient Atlanteans could. And we all know that the reason Atlantis sank under the waves is because their experiments to mess with the evolution of humankind created too many of these super soldiers, and a civil war broke out._

 _By the 1960's, the various World Government puppets of some of the most powerful illuminated conspiracies decided to try and take advantage of the situation and capture or recruit as many of these Empowered beings as possible, because it was the Cold War, and that was the sort of shit you did back then. The biggest player right now is, of course, in the United States. It started as a group called, innocuously enough, the "Specials Administration And Oversight Project". After the false flag operation of September 11th, the Shadow Illuminati took over the S.O.A.P. from the Technocracy, and broke it into several branches, the biggest of which is their super-soldier op called "The Damocles Initiative"._

 _There's actually a bunch of these different groups running around. Outside of the US, the biggest players are: The Rising Sun in Japan, which was originally formed to fight off The Grand Leviathan after it was accidentally released in 1958; Task Force Excalibur in the UK, which we've recently confirmed is being secretly run by the actual Merlin from the Arthurian legends; and Krashne Zmei, which folks in the know remember as a remnant of a much larger super-science group back from the old USSR. Also, they're the dicks who accidentally lost the Spear of Destiny around 1982, until it suddenly showed up on a now-censored episode of Antiques Roadshow in 1999._

 _China used to be a bigger deal, almost big enough to give Japan a run for the money, but after they picked a fight with the Sh'iguth'cthulin in 2009, they more or less lost all of their superpowered assets. Just remember kids: Never get involved in a war with a race that's at least five dimensional quantum gradients higher than your own reality._

 _There's a few others, like the Prometheus Institute and The Daughters of Hypatia, but they're all minor players, who lucked into picking up two or three Empowereds. But the smaller guys are usually on the ball, and they've been good sources of information for our site...at least until the other Illuminati-backed groups find them and take them over._

Chloe decided she'd seen enough of this crazy shit, and scrolled down through some of the forum postings. The site itself had been around since the mid 90's, so there were a lot of old and leftover posts.

 _1997:_

 _Man! I knew it! This is how Clinton is going to take over the US and turn it into a dictatorship! Watch out for them super soldiers!_

 _2004:_

 _I told you idiots! Bush and Cheney have been trying to rebuild Yggdrasil since day one! You guys seriously believe the Iraq War is costing us all that money? For real? They're siphoning it off. Because this is how Bush is going to take over the US and turn it into a dictatorship! Everyone knows that if they can return to the original site of the Tower of Ba'hae'val from ancient Babylon, and build it there, it will give them supreme power over the entire universe!_

 _2010:_

 _We prefer to be called The CHILDREN of Hypatia now, fuck you very much!_

 _2011:_

 _Dude, it wasn't The Grand Leviathan that was released in 1958, it was Kaitetsu The Undying! Shit, get your facts right, you look like a bunch of clownshoes morons!_

 _2012:_

 _No Muslim Islamist Superfreaks! This is how Obama is going to take over the US and turn it into a Sharia dictatorship! It's exactly what Saul Alinsky said people were gonna do, as part of the Cloward-Piven strategy!_

"Hoo. Lee. Fuuuuuuck."

Chloe had seen enough...

She glanced down at the badge, and then back at Max. Moved to put it back in her coat pocket, so she wouldn't miss it. Then murmured to herself,"This is why I only use the Internet for Facebook and porn. Jesus Christ..."

Still...

While she couldn't just write off everything she saw, it wasn't like there weren't obvious, mundane explanations. Crazy martial arts training? Sure, yeah, you give someone enough years, and they can do amazing things. Same goes for any weird sort of magic trick and ninja shit. Impressive, but all very explainable.

 _Fuck, I mean it's not like she teleported across the room or shot out fireballs and crap. But wait, didn't she say something about "good luck with your shakedown?" before I left to lean on Nathan? I...no...no shit. I totally must have told her what I was going to do, before I left the truck._

 _Right?_

She reached for a joint, and immediately sparked up. This was far too much loco ju-ju for her to handle sober. All but sucking the whole thing down in two or three massive hits, it didn't take long for her mind to calm, general anxiety dissipating into a warm sense of giddiness.

Of course, now that she was stoned, some of that conspiracy website shit was starting to make sense.

 _Because...if she spent five years being stuck in some weird government facility, getting poked and prodded at...wouldn't that screw a person up? Like maybe they jammed her with all kinds of drugs, get her addicted to things to try and control her. Or make her more powerful! Whatever power shes supposed to have. Or..._

Chloe smacked her forehead. "Shit, I fucking overdid it. Too stoned, this is all starting to make some sort of sense."

She rose up from her seat, then started to pace in an agitated fashion.

 _Fuckfuckfuck. What am I gonna do, what am I gonna freaking do?_

She stopped, then looked back at Max, who had curled back up on her side in the interim. She was smiling radiantly.

Chloe gave a soft sigh, and sat back in her chair, wheeling it over to the foot of the bed, where she could keep a closer vigil on her suddenly-returned friend.

 _She looks so blissful now. She said she was happy to see me. Like I just made her entire world worthwhile or something. Oh Max. I really should kinda hate you. I've been so screwed over by the world and everyone in it but...here you are. You came back and what do you do in the first hour? Save my life, get me money and a gun...a way, way better one than I stole from Step-Dork. If that doesn't start to make up for...whatever...then I guess I don't know what does._

Chloe made up her mind, right then and there. She rose up, and reached over, tenderly brushing a few locks of hair away from Max's face.

 _Shit. I missed you. I really missed you. I don't wanna let down my guard, but seeing you here now? I'm probably gonna hella regret this...but I'm helping you, Max. Whatever trouble you're in, I'm gonna help you get through it. Least I can do. Because we're still friends for life. I gotta believe that much._

She just wish she knew exactly what the hell she was signing up for.

* * *

 ** _A/N:_** Awwww yeah! It's Double-Shot Saturday! An epic blast of awesome, featuring both the return of Black Swan and the latest chapter of Grande Dame, dropping on you at the same time! Never had a chance to do something like this before, probably never will again, so of course I had to!

So hi Swanketteers. Thanks for waiting so patiently while we caught up a bit. I even managed to write a couple more rough draft chapters during the hiatus. Oh, and you know, a few other things I suppose. :D It's not like our beloved Life is Strange finally ended or anything! Although I must admit, it feels really weird all of the sudden to be writing this series now that we know exactly whats happening, and it's all over and done with. But still...we've got a lot of story ahead of us.

And yay! **Corentin IV** is back, and awesomely serving awesome advice with epic flair! Which I think the British call "bubble and squeak" for some reason.

Also, I want to take a moment and say once again: Thank you all for your indulgence and patience. I realize that I went heavy into the world and character building...honestly, more than I intended. A lot of folks liked it, but some folks took issue; it's a valid critique. I mean, not that I can do much about it now, and the story is going to be shifting gears as we finally get into a Max and Chloe paradigm, and everything else shifts to the "B-story". Could I have shortened up some of the "five years" pieces? Maybe. Definitely not into one whole chapter, not without compromising quality but...ah well, it's a lesson for the future.

Have an awesome Halloween, everyone! See you next Saturday.


	14. Pulling A Fast One

_"Jesus Christ. It's just a kid!"_

Max struggled in a miasma of darkling fragments, pieces of memories, jagged and uneven, refusing to fit themselves back together. They flashed on and off, like a loose television connection. She endured them as best she could, unable to hold onto the individual recollections in her head for more than a second or two.

" _...by the time we do, it'll be too late...going to need to finish the mission solo. I'm sorry. But I have absolute confidence in your abilities"_

She's searching...somewhere. The scents seem off, the shadows all wrong. Everything is twisted; dimensions make no sense. Suddenly, there's a basement, one she descends into. A voice snaps into focus, pleading, begging.

" _Mǔqīn_ _!_ _Hǎo tòng! Hǎo tòng!"_

There's a dark shape huddling in the corner, thrashing in absolute agony. Crying and shrieking.

Then the man's voice, the one that demands, all but screaming at her.

" _...terminate the target! Do it now!"_

Her hands shake. There's something heavy in them. She doesn't want to do what the voice is demanding.

" _...I swear, if you disobey my direct order, you will never..."_

Max starts to stir, trying to claw her way back to wakefulness, away from the sea of madness she's drowning in. She thinks she succeeds, gasping for breath, but emerges into a pale imitation of wakefulness, all grey twilight shades. Someone is there, all but shaking her.

" _Max, Jesus, wake up! It's been like fucking eighteen hours, and the Step-Shit is starting to freak out about you being here!"_

Instinctively she jerks, snaps back. The girl with the blue hair fades away, falling back like a train light in a tunnel, running in reverse. She fights, struggles, wrestles with her twilight state of partial wakefulness as if her life depends on it. Then she's falling...

...a short distance, landing on her side with a soft whump.

At last, reality. It resolves itself into sharp, aching relief.

Max groaned, and grabbed the edge of the bed from her position on the floor, peering over the side.

 _Where the fuck?!_

It was curiously familiar. The scent is what got her first: beneath the incense, and whatever skunky scent it was trying to cover up, there was wood. And dust, and moisture. Nameless things that build up to a familiar, primal, instinctive picture. Psychoacoustics were next, the way that the room sounded, the almost sixth sense that gave a room its particular impression. Finally, she recognized some of the contours, the older decorations. As much as there was what she could pick out, there was so much more that was alien: the upside down American flag, Christmas lights, the various slogans, some of them peppered with profanity.

If she didn't know better, she would absolutely swear she was in...

"Wow. You okay there, _La Femme Nikita?_ Sounded like a rough landing."

There was a woman sitting on the other side of the bed, listening to an iPod and eating a bowl of breakfast cereal. Skater punk fashion - white wife beater over black bra - some sort of beanie on her head. An armful of tattoos. Blue hair...

Blue hair?

A vision sears itself into her mind. The memories that Reese gave her, right as he was leaving for Japan.

Max would probably have figured it out in a few seconds, but with her updated knowledge, she intuited her identity without thinking about it.

"Ch-chloe?"

This was impossible. Absolutely impossible. How could she have gotten here? There was no way. None whatsoever. Max had to be dreaming, she simply had to be!

 _Then please, please don't let me wake up._

Chloe chewed through her mouthful of what appeared to be Fruity Pebbles, swallowed hard and smirked., "I'm wearing her underwear, at least." She then gave a light laugh. "Geeze, you feeling any better?"

Max clambered onto her feet. Glanced down, and saw she was still in her field uniform.

"Yeah...I...I'm fine." she started to answer. "I think? I just don't remember...how the hell I got here?"

Putting the bowl down onto the floor, Chloe rose up and said, "Yeah, you kind of mentioned you'd probably forget what happened. Weird, yeah? So I'm sorry, but I gotta ask: is it meth? Because now that you've had a little rest, you actually look hella awesome for a meth head. You know, 'cause you've got really nice teeth, and clear skin."

Max couldn't believe what she was seeing, nor hearing.

"What? No! Why the hell would you think I'm on drugs? What the fuck? Seriously, how did I get..."

Before she could continue, the realization struck her, like a circuit breaker going off in her brain...

 _This...this isn't a dream, Max._

...overriding the rest of her actions.

She sprang across the bed, and wrapped her arms around Chloe in a tight hug.

"Oh God! It's you! It really is you, Chloe!"

She didn't want to let go of this moment. Her friend was here; her best friend in the entire world, for over fourteen years. The one she'd been forced to give up hope of ever seeing again. She willed her eyes to keep from welling up with tears, and failed by and large.

Chloe staggered back, unprepared. "Whoa. Okay, not exactly building up your drug-free case here, Mad Maxima."

Max pulled back and wiped her eyes, smiling, and retorted back with a cough, "Oh just...just fucking shut up! I can't believe I'm here, I can't believe I'm seeing you again. You have no idea how much I missed you. Jesus!"

Suddenly it struck her.

The mission.

What day was it? What _time_ was it?

She quickly peered at her lifeclock. She'd shaved some time off her lifespan since she made the initial rewind from Zion. According to the display, it was now...

Monday, October 7th. 10:57 A.M. PDT

Chloe softened a bit, smiling shyly. "Wow. Okay, you do seem a lot more like a normal person now. As cool as it was to see you kick Nathan's ass and shit, I gotta admit, this more cuddly, less cripply you is kinda awesome too..."

Too much was happening all at once, too many differing things. Max gripped at her temples, ignoring whatever the hell it was that Chloe just told her. "Shit! Chloe! I'm...I'm sorry to spaz out like this, but I need a fucking tv or better yet, a computer on the internet. Please! It's literally life or death."

Blinking, fazed by the sudden change in track yet again, Chloe pointed towards a laptop sitting on her old desk. "Seriously. We meet up for the first time in five years, and you have to check your Tumblr feed?"

She ignored her, and instead jumped onto Google, immediately searching for any news stories about New York City. Hell, an atomic apocalypse that consumed the Greater NYC metropolis would have been impossible to not find.

 _Okay. Let's see...Thunderstorm warnings for New England...Republicans and the President still unwilling to compromise on averting a government shutdown...Buffalo Bills potentially pick up Dennis Dixon...New trial for Manhattan man who claims he was assisting in suicide._

Nothing. There was absolutely nothing. It appeared to be yet another glorious day of total and utter mundanity for the world.

Actually, that wasn't entirely true...

There _was_ a small hit, something about DHS cordoning off a section of Elizabeth Street in Chinatown to investigate a situation that turned out to be illegal basement excavation, but that was it. The whole story was barely a paragraph, and only got any mention because people were complaining about noise and vibration coming from that part of town.

 _Elizabeth Street? Why...why does that sound so...?_

Max still wasn't convinced. She glanced over and noticed.

"...TV. You get cable on this thing?"

"Uhhh...barely. Just the basics." Chloe shrugged, picking the soggy remains of her bowl of cereal up from the floor, finishing it off.

Max turned the TV on, and began to flip through the channels.

But the world stubbornly refused to descend into chaos and darkness. At least, no faster than it was already doing.

She turned it off, slumping back into the chair, and breathed out. "I...I did it. God, I don't know how, but I did it! Everyone's safe."

"Cool. Great. Yay, go Team Max. So what did you do, exactly?" Chloe asked, with a snide demeanor, but playful all the same.

Max blinked.

 _Shit._

How the fuck was she going to explain anything?

"Um...that's. It's...it's classified, Che." she responded lamely.

 _Hee hee. Did I call her Che? Haven't had a chance to do that in years. Man, I still can't believe I'm sitting here, talking with Chloe again!_

Chloe snorted, rolled her eyes. "Just because I'm not with Homeland Security, and part of your Damocles Imperative secret spy club or something, you can't tell me?"

"It's...'Initiative'. And...shit, how the fuck do you know about that?"

Putting the now empty cereal bowl back down, Chloe tapped her shoulder. "Other than the fancy-ass patch on your fancy-ass uniform? I snuck a peek at your badge while you were sleeping. And did a little research online." The bluenette held up her hands, clearly noticing when Max began to blanche.

"Don't worry. I used my super-secret encryption crazy tech TOR thing for doing it. So seriously, assuming I do believe that you work for the government as a secret agent, what were you trying to do? Stop a bomb, assassinate someone?"

" _Mǔqīn_ _!_ _Hǎo tòng! Hǎo tòng!"_

" _...terminate the target! Do it now!"_

" _I had a brother, he lived in Brooklyn, and it's all fucking gone now!""_

Max came back to herself, as pieces of half-remembered memory fuzzed in and out of her brain, refusing to fully emerge from the dark gaps in her mind.

She bowed her head, and softly said. "You'd never believe me."

Chloe snorted again. "Try me. I've had a real fucked up morning with you."

Max closed her eyes. Sighed heavily.

 _Fine. Fuck. I'll tell her. She won't believe me anyhow._

"I was on a mission. I...I go back in time. That's my thing, my power. It's why I got taken away from home five years ago. In my original timeline, New York City was destroyed by a fifty megaton explosion around 10:12 A.M Pacific Time. My mission was to go back twenty-four hours, and give my superior officer a package of data, so she could study what happened and prevent it.."

Chloe blinked once. Twice. Pursed her lips together, twitched them back and forth, before drawling in a deadpan tone of voice.

"Oookay then."

Max groaned. "Told you, you wouldn't believe me."

"No, it's okay." Chloe countered. "I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm glad NYC isn't a smoking crater in the ground or something, that'd suck for the tourism industry. Just I don't understand how the hell you were supposed to stop a bomb on the other side of the country if you were on my bed, snoozing your ass asleep for the past hour."

 _Damn. That's kind of a good point._

Max grasped for an answer for a few moments, before mustering bravado in her voice and settling on, "Because...because time travel...duuuh."

Glancing down at her lifeclock, Max had the initial inklings answer. "I've..it's been more than twenty four objective hours since I started my mission. I...the last thing I remember is starting to rewind back, and then something went wrong. Next thing I know, I wake up here. But according to this..." she indicated the device on her wrist. "It's been a little over two full days. I mean, for me. So I must have rewound a bunch already. Done stuff." She frowned and muttered, "Geezus, I hope I didn't have to double back against my own timeline too much. That'd screw shit up potentially..."

She glanced back up to Chloe. The other girl totally didn't believe a damn word she was saying.

What did it matter? It was probably better that way. Although it would be nice if she had some proof to show her.

Max started to pat herself down, as she remembered.

 _Oh shit! My Edit Order token! I need that!_

"Chloe? Did you see a square of metal around? It'd be onyx colored, smooth, maybe have a bunch of computer ports on it?"

The other girl shook her head. "Newp."

 _Shit! Shit I've lost the one damn thing I need to prove to everyone that I didn't go fucking AWOL. Great!_

Max felt like she should go out and retrace her steps. Demand that Chloe help her comb every square inch of whatever path they took that morning. But for some reason, she just couldn't summon up the fucks required to care anymore. The problem felt overwhelming, and in the face of being reunited with her best friend...

 _...well, I know what I'd rather be doing. If I'm fucked, let me be fucking fucked. Those assholes have been looking for a reason to crucify me anyhow. I'll...I'll deal with it later._

She brushed back her hair, took a deep breath, looked up once again, and smiled.

"Ha. Ha...so...hi Chloe. Awesome to see you. It really is. You have no idea!"

WIth a sharp laugh, Chloe responded, "Hella yeah, good to see you too, Max! Even if you are half-crazy from the sound of it."

"Uhm...so I seriously don't remember what happened this morning, but you made it sound awesome. Just...please tell me I didn't kill anyone?"

The blunette lit up, and started to retell the tale, her hands animated with energy and delight. "Noooo, but damn if you didn't make Nathan Prescott practically shit himself! Uh, mean, I was a little worried you might kill him, but you didn't, so that's all that matters right? But yeah, uh, I went in to talk to him, because...err...he owed me money. Yeah, bitch owed me money, and he wasn't paying."

"Wait. I know that name. Is this the same guy with the family that's super stupid rich?" Max asked.

Chloe paused. "Oh. Yeah. It is. So like, I know, right? How much of an asshole is he, not paying up when clearly he can?"

Max smirked. It was obvious to her that things were getting a little twisted in the retelling of the tale. She studied Chloe, and couldn't help but think that something must have happened to her. Several somethings. Her eyes took in details, brain went to work, everything they had taught her during her training, getting a read on her old friend. She might not know exactly what or how it went down, but she could see it in her eyes, her body language, the details in her surroundings.

The last five years had not been particularly kind to Chloe Price, nor she to them.

"Right. Go on..."

"So the punk-ass pulls a gun on me. A gun! Can you believe that shit?" Chloe continued, all but strangling the air with her hands. "I was about to totally smack that asshole around, but...you know. I'm pretty cool, but I'm not bulletproof." She removed her beanie, rubbing at the top of her head nervously, before replacing it. "That was when you came in. I mean, I forgot the part where you just ninja'd into my truck and gave me a heart attack and said you needed to sleep. But yeah, you came in and you just...wam bam, fucked up his world!"

She started to laugh, bouncing in her chair, "You were making him your total bitch! Then you somehow knocked him out, took a bunch of his money, locked him up in a girl's bathroom stall, and we bolted. We came here, you crashed on my bed, told me how pretty and awesome and cool I am, promised to pay me two grand, and then fell asleep." The smirk on her lips made it clear she wasn't exactly serious about that last bit. Probably.

Max laughed sharply. She couldn't help it, it was just too damn funny. As much as she had changed, Chloe was still the bright, witty, quick-on-her-feet girl she remembered. Now, there was a rough, cynical edge to her, but she could see how Chloe might have developed down that path.

 _Wait, did she say I told her she was pretty?_

Not that it wasn't true.

"By the way, are you really rich?" Chloe added.

Max blinked. What the hell _did_ she tell her?

"Uhhh..rich? Sort of? I guess?"

She paused. As much as she might want to brag about how much bling she had in the bank, that kind of thing made people go weird. And besides, what did it matter, it's not like she could really get at it anyhow.

"Why, do you still need money or something? Because yeah, I get paid pretty decent, federal agent and all." She crossed her arms and gave the other girl a knowing look. "I mean, do people owe you money, or do you owe someone else?"

Chloe gave her a sheepish glance. "It might be something like that. But I promise, I had the best of intentions! It wasn't like I got into gambling, or spent it on drugs, I was trying to find someone. Who I thought was missing, might be in trouble. Or worse." Her face and tone grew increasingly dark and wounded as she continued. "Turns out she was just a fucking ho-bag skank who likes to pretend she's people's friend and jerk them around. Bitch. But now I'm in debt to this drug dealing asshole who isn't going to just let me walk out of town. I just need to pay him back, and after I do? 'm gone. Forever."

She glanced up, tone lightening, but only just. "Speaking of jerking around, do you really have money you could lend a sistah?"

 _Max...shut the fuck up right now, you're in deep enough shit as it is, and you're putting Chloe into all sorts of jeopardy._

Max smirked and then shrugged. "Uhh...maybe. Dunno, I gotta see what kinda credit risk you are." She tried to play it cool, and felt like she just took a swing and a miss.

Chloe scowled, and then waved a hand at her, before chuckling low. "I knew you were full of shit, Caulfield." Regardless, her mood shifted to an airier mein, "Still, you helped me get almost half of what I need to pay back." She softened a bit as she said, "That's more than anyone else has done for me in...in years..."

"Oh yeah? What's half? Of the total, I mean." Max asked.

"Uhh, fifteen hundred? We got twelve out of Nathan."

Max checked her pocket. Not that she was expecting to find any money, but she realized there were things in her cargo pants that she couldn't account for, didn't remember having. A quick search turned up several hundred dollars and a receipt from a Bank of America ATM on 45th Street. In Manhattan. Timestamped around 3:07 A.M, October 7th. Just a few hours ago.

 _The fuck? How did I end up in New York?! I wasn't supposed to go anywhere near there. I mean, I can't! I can't teleport, I don't have that power! The whole mission was just me going back to Zion Control twenty-four hours in the past. How the hell did I end up in New York, and_ then _in Arcadia Bay? In less than twelve hours. What the hell is going on!?_

She started to count out three hundred bucks, which looked to be just under half of everything she was carrying on her. Holding out the pile of twenties, she said, "Well..uhh...here. That gets you halfway to your goal now, right? I mean..." Max glanced to the side, brushing the hair out of her face. "I could probably get you the rest but...but my gut is telling me I shouldn't touch my bank account until I figure out what my situation is...how much trouble I might be in. For all I know, I've gone rogue, and there's a fucking good reason for it."

 _I really hope not. That would be stupid for me to give away all that money if I might need it. Still...fuck it. It's Chloe! Holy shit! It's Chloe! I'm so happy to see her!_

Chloe slowly took the wad of bills, with a look of disbelief etched across her face.

"You're...just giving me this?"

Max smirked. "I kind of figured that was the plan, Che. I mean, you're really in trouble right? This'll help you?"

Looking away, as she quickly crammed the money into her pants pocket, Chloe quietly responded, "Christ, Max. Five years. Five fucking years, and you come back, and just...help me? Like no time's passed at all. I mean, I've changed, you know? I mean, I'm not...I'm not the same..." She took her hat off, and bowed her head, screwing her face up into a mask of frustration. "I don't know if you're playing a long con, or if you're still the best friend I don't deserve having anymore. Shittiest part is that I can't make up my mind yet. But I really want it to be the latter. So I'm just asking you, please don't fuck with me, okay Max? Please be for real."

Chloe leaned in, gave her a hug, and whispered. "And thanks. Okay?"

Max hugged her back. Tightly, and maybe a little overlong. Chloe pulled back, and they just glanced at each other. She felt a heat rising up to her face, smiled and looked away, blushing.

 _What...what the hell...am I feeling right now?_

"Yeah, yeah, you're...Pirates always gotta stick together. That was the Pirate Code we swore, right Cap'n? Arrg." Max smirked, trying to play it cool again, bringing up the old childhood reference.

It made Chloe laugh, and that was all Max needed from the moment. "Ha ha! Yeah! But something tells me I'm gonna be playing Will Turner to your Captain Jack Sparrow for a while. Dude, seriously, you _need_ to tell me how you know kung-fu. Like now!"

That was about the time that Max's bladder really began to make its displeasure known to her.

"S-sure, Chloe. I promise I'll tell you everything, even though I really, really shouldn't. I'm just...so tired of hiding it all now." She smirked as she continued. "I mean, I'm assuming fifteen hundred bucks'll buy me some shut the fuck up from you while you listen to everything I'm about to say? But first: uh...the bathroom still in the same place it was five years ago? Bladder is starting to kick my butt."

"Hah. Yeah, go nuts." Chloe waved a hand towards her door.

She laughed to herself and shook her head.

"We'll never get to that damn story at this rate."

* * *

Chloe suppressed a giggle as Max all but flew out of her bedroom to go take a leak.

She gathered up all the cash she'd managed to come into this morning, and stashed it away in a small lockbox under her bed, shaking her head in disbelief.

 _Halfway there. Can't believe it. Can't believe it's Max. And...and she seems okay now! Right? I mean, she's not all creepy and disjointed like she was an hour or so ago. And shits happened to her. That much is obvious. She's not the same doofy - but so adorable - kid that I last saw five years ago. But she's still Max. I can see that. I mean, she probably thinks the same thing about me._

She paused, stared out the window.

 _Does she still see her best friend, too? Or this punk ass loser I've turned into?_

"No. Stop that shit, none of that." she whispered to herself. "Max is back, and she needs help, and I need help, and...and this is what friends fucking do for each other. This is...this shit is all...

 _...destiny? It seemed kind of weird, her coming back, just when she absolutely needed a friend herself,. Not to mention she's now someone with an exciting bag of tricks in her arsenal! But working for the government? Who does that? Who seriously takes a kid, and forces them to work for the government?_

She chewed it over for a few seconds, then realized her own dim view of most authority sources and figures these days.

 _OUR fucking government. If there was a good enough reason for them to do it, sure. I could see them pulling that shit._

Her train of thought was interrupted as the bedroom door closed, and Max leaned against it, sighing in relief as she returned.

"Oh shit. Thank you. I've gotten too good at learning how to ignore my bladder, but when it hits critical mass, you know...get out of the damn way!"

Chloe winked. "Well, I'm glad we won't be rolling out of here on the yellow tide."

"Ha ha! Oh God, gross!"

Max then sighed, and pushed back. "Okay. Seriously. Are you ready for a story? I mean, before I tell you..." she got quiet. Serious. Even shy. "This is seriously classified shit, Chloe. Okay? You can never, I mean, never ever tell anyone. Especially the government, if they catch up with me and you. As far as you know, I ran from school because I couldn't take the academic pressure there anymore. You got it?"

"Yup. I promise!" she answered with a joking gesture, her hand raised up like she was a Boy Scout.

Max frowned. "I'm fucking serious, Chloe! Like cancer. Please, please don't treat it like a joke." There was something more behind her eyes. It wasn't that she was angry at her. More like...

 _...afraid. Jesus fuck, she's really afraid for me here. God, either this is for real, or she's got some serious delusions worked up._

"Alright." she said, in a soft, earnest tone. "I promise. For cereal."

Max gave an impish grin. "Wow. I used to say that. Like all the time. Haven't though, been at least a year or two."

"I was just hanging on to it for you, keepin' it safe. You can have it back now, m'lady." She stuck out her hand, as if holding out an invisible physical representation of the catchphrase to her. Max totally went along with it, 'grabbing' it from her and fake curtsied. "Thank you, oh my hero."

Opening up a drawer and starting to get out the makings to roll herself a particularly huge joint, she asked. "Hey look, do you mind if I get blazed? Something tells me that no matter what your story actually is, I'd really like to be medicated for it."

"Go ahead. I don't care." Max said with a shrug.

"Really? You aren't gonna arrest me or anything, Miz Federale?" Chloe teased.

Max groaned. "Jesus. Fuck those DEA guys! We had someone transfer over to our base security department, and he was a fucking skeezebag. Always hitting and creeping on me, and I'm like 'Shit. I'm seventeen. What the hell?' Rodriguez nearly burned his balls off when she found out. So yeah, fuck those DEA guys in the dickhole."

Chloe snickered, and started to go to work. "Damn woman, you sound hella tense. The Max I knew would never go off on an awesome rant like that. So...uh, you wanna hit it with me? Least I can do for you, seeing as you pretty much saved my ass from dying today."

Chloe glanced over to Max and blinked. It was hard to describe, but it was as if one second, she was in one position, and the next, she was in just a slightly different one. But there was absolutely no transition between the two; rather, it occurred in a jerking, instantaneous jump.

Max's expression morphed just as quickly. "Chloe! Fuck! Change of plans, put that shit away. Right now!" Before Chloe could say anything, the other girl started to wave her hands. "No! No time to argue. In about..." she glanced at the weird wristwatch thing on her arm. "Four minutes, thirty eight seconds, some...David? Whoever David is, man, he's an asshole! I just spent three or four rewinds trying to figure out how to deal with him, but he's going to burst in here, and grill you about taking one of his guns, and smoking weed. And then he's going to totally freak about my uniform and shit. So put the weed away, hide your guns, and...shit, I need a change of clothes anyhow! Do you have anything?"

It took a few seconds for Chloe to process everything; shit was just flying at her, too much, too fast. How the hell did Max know about her idiot ass of a stepfather? Although all the shit she said was going to happen sounded like him; God, she never could fucking stand that bastard. But the notion that he might be coming to bust her for shit was enough to get Chloe springing into action, hiding her drug stash, making sure both of the guns were well out of sight, and then turning to the closet.

"Y-yeah. Rachel...she...there's a bunch of her clothes left behind in my closet. I was gonna burn them or sell them for money, just haven't had the chance. Sorry, they're all covered in skank at the moment."

Max dashed into the closet and called out. "Wow. Hate to be this Rachel person. What'd she do, steal your boyfriend or something? Screw you on a drug deal?"

Chloe laughed bitterly as she sprayed air freshener around the room. "Boyfriend?! Fuck no, if anything she...she was...fuck, it's not important right now, Max! Is the Step-Dick really coming? I mean, how the hell do you know for sure?"

"Because I can rewind back from the future, remember? Just trust me. I've got an idea, and I need you to totally play along, okay. It's gonna look stupid weird, and I'm gonna say some crazy stuff, but you can't crack up or make it look like I'm anything other than totally serious." She paused, and added, softly. "For cereal."

Chloe clamped her hands over her mouth to keep from laughing. Max called out, "Sixty seconds until he bellows. Are you ready?"

"Yeah! Do we fuck him over and make him look stupid?"

"Dunno, I guess we're about to find out, but we'll hopefully keep him off your damn back. Okay, shut up, here we go."

Exactly fifty-five seconds later, there was a slam, and David called from down the stairs.

"Chloe, are you up there?"

"I most certainly am, Stepfather Dearest." she replied, in the sweetest sarcastic voice she could muster.

 _Holy shit, Max was right! Heh heh. You got nothing on me now, Step-bitch. Not when this gal's got her own private bodyguard. Nice to have the upper hand over him for once._

Not missing a beat, he clomped up the stairs, "I'm coming up, we need to talk."

Quickly sitting on the edge of her bed, legs crossed, picking up a random book, she began to casually pretend to read it, and called out, in a playful sing song voice. "Door's not locked, so help yourself! I'm just in here, broadening my mind!"

David Madsen stepped in, his mustached face turned up in a grim, cold expression that made him seem like he was gunning for a fight.

"What's going on in here?"

"Geeze, just trying to read. I do that sometimes, you know? Read? Like a book. You're so friggin' paranoid."

"Yeah, combat will do that to you." He retorted. "Chloe, a couple of people told me you were hanging around Blackwell today. I want to know why."

"Oh, nice!" she frowned, uncrossing her legs. "Not even 'Is it true?', you just jump straight to demands."

"Chloe..." he growled.

"Fine! Jesus, yes! Ugh! I was hanging around the _outside_ of Black-hell, removing a bunch of the posters I put up about Rachel Amber. Now that we know she was totally faking it and just being a big-ass attention whore. Sorreeee for trying to clean up after myself. You know? When I was totally broken-hearted and busted up because she was playing me for a fool and making me think she was dead or worse?"

This seemed to mollify him, if just barely. "You know it's private property, and you're not a student anymore. So just...just don't come hanging around, alright? Now, one of my guns is missing. Did you take it?"

Peevishly, she rolled her eyes and rose up from the bed. "No! God, you know I'm into gun control, why the hell would I even touch one of your penis-rods. Jesus..."

He stuck out an angry finger in her direction. "Hey! I don't need to take that kind of talk from you! And damnit, Chloe, I can smell the grass you've been smoking in here again!"

She threw up her hands, raising her voice, because she knew he was totally making shit up now. There was no way he could tell through all the air freshener she put up; it was the good odor destroying stuff, like the pros use for new cars.

"Now you're just fucking fishing around! Guns, weed, you're tripping balls! I try to be nice to you, for once, for Joyce's sake, and you just barge in here and start bullying me around. It's not like you're a real cop, you're just a security guard at that stupid school!"

Before either of them could continue, Max smoothly emerged from the closet, calling out "Hey, you're right Chloe, they totally fit me. Thanks!". She'd completely changed: attired in one of Rachel's old riotgrrl collections, made up of a black Sex Pistols t-shirt, tight but ripped black jeans, and a red flannel shirt.

 _W-wow. She looks really good!_

Great, more like! Better than Rachel wore it, and despite how much she hated her now, Chloe had to admit her old girlfriend was gorgeous. Without the bulky coat, and armored uniform, she could really appreciate how trim and muscular Max was. Practically sculpted. Chloe could just imagine what she looked like, underneath the loose flannel and...

 _Head back in the game, Chlo!_

Max glanced up to David, smiled brightly and held out a hand. "Oh, hello sir."

David glanced suspiciously at Max, and at her outstretched hand, pointedly not taking it.

"Who...who are you?" he asked. "I don't like strangers in my house."

"It's not your house, you damn well know..." Chloe began.

"Chloe!" Max interrupted, in a firmly chiding but friendly tone. "Don't be mean. I'm trying to introduce myself. Sorry, sir. My name is Maxine. Maxine Caulfield. I'm an old friend of Chloe's. I used to live in Arcadia Bay, but I went away to school five years ago. I was just visiting, and the stupid airline people lost my luggage. You know how that goes, right? So she was nice enough to let me borrow some clothes in the meantime. Sorry, I didn't mean to be deceptive, changing in the closet like that, but I was..ah...well you know, half naked and getting dressed."

Chloe had no idea how she was pulling it off, but at this moment, everything about Max screamed, "I'm the trustworthy, squeaky-clean friend you want your kid to have!" From the wide, almost vapid smile on her face to the ramrod straight way she carried herself, as if she were standing at military ease.

 _Oh...God. She's laying it on hella thick. How the heck is she doing that?_

David nodded, a disbelieving look on his face, although one that was rapidly starting to fade. He hummed in the back of his throat and murmured thoughtfully. "Caulfield? Caulfield. I think I remember Joyce mentioning the name. She had good things to say." His eyes narrowed again. "But people can change. Especially over five years. For instance, you'd be a little younger than Chloe, from what she told me. Shouldn't you be in school?" He started to point an accusing finger at her.

 _Good luck, Max. Step-dick is sooo hella paranoid. he's trying to see right through whatever act you're cooking up._

Max didn't flinch, or betray one second's worth of doubt or nervousness. Everything about her bearing continued to radiate the confidence of someone who had absolutely nothing to hide.

"Of course, sir! You're right to be suspicious! I actually graduated from school a few months early. I'm taking a couple weeks off and visiting people, reestablishing some old friendships." At this, Chloe noticed she turned to look straight at her. "I'm supposed to go to the University of Virginia next, but I deferred for a year. I actually have to go back home soon, because I've got my last month's worth of JROTC commitments to fulfil."

Chloe noticed how much this caught his attention. She became all but forgotten as he turned his focus all on Max. The deception seemed to be holding so far, because he was easing up. She could feel the bro-rage vibes coming off him start to dial down.

"Junior ROTC? Oh yeah? No kidding. Planning on continuing that in college, I hope? And do you have a particular track you're shooting for?" he asked.

"Of course, sir!" said Max. "And yes, Navy. Although I'll be honest." At this she leaned in and stage whispered. "I'm just doing that so I can eventually cut over to the Marine extension through the NROTC program."

Again, David looked Max over, appraisingly. "Marine? Well, it looks like you've got the build for it." He then crossed his arms, the skeptic wall returning. "But they're gonna work you three times as hard as anything you may have gone through so far."

"Oh! I certainly hope so, sir! It's not worth doing if it's easy." she chirped back.

Now, he laughed and shook his head with bemusement. Actually laughed, genuine and easy, a sound Chloe hadn't heard from him before. Ever. Not once. At least that she could remember.

"I'm an Army man myself. Served in the Gulf."

Max acted a little flustered for a moment, but it was clearly meant to be an act. "Oh nooo. I hope you won't hold it against me then. You know the old rivalry. I have a lot of respect for the Army, but it's just not the path I want to go down. But thank you for your service, sir. I hope that when I get my chance, I do our country proud as well."

Again, he laughed low, actually clapping a gentle hand on Max's shoulder. "No worries, Cadet. Anyhow, welcome to my home. I hope...she...isn't being a bad influence. Like all her other so-called friends are."

Chloe did her best not to scowl as she was referred to.

"Oh, no no! I mean, she's changed a lot, but she's still Chloe. I'm really excited to see her after so long!" As Max gave her a winning smile, Chloe felt her heart jump, just a beat.

 _D-damn Max. I hope that was really you, a moment ago...not just faking._

"Also...and I'm sorry sir, I don't mean to pry, but I have to be honest." Max continued. "I can't say what Chloe does when I'm not around, but I've been with her all morning and she hasn't done anything illicit or illegal. I'm actually...ah...I'm a straight-edger, sir. No alcohol, no drugs, I won't even touch caffein. Chloe knows that, and she wouldn't make me feel uncomfortable around her."

Chloe tried not to bite her lip as she watched David glance between her and Max, clearly struggling to make a decision. After a few more seconds, he nodded firmly to the other girl. "Alright then. Good to meet you, Maxine. I'm glad to see that Chloe has at least one friend not trying to drag her down. Good luck next year in college. I'm sure you'll make a fine Marine." He glanced back towards her. "You could learn a lot from her, Chloe."

He quickly headed out the door.

Chloe stared back at Max for a long few seconds, still reeling from what she had just witnessed. Watched as Max loosened up, literally shaking her head and limbs a bit as if washing herself off in a shower, and then leaned close to her, whispering.

"Holy shit! The stick...up his...what an ass! He's totally like this one bitch I know back at Zion Control, except she wouldn't have fallen for that Polly Platoon act I just pulled off." Max then started to march in place, making a mocking salute and turning around in place as she did.

Chloe clamped both hands over her mouth, tightly sealing away the hysterical laughter threatening to blast out from her lungs. She fell back and collapsed on her bed, curling up into a little ball of mirth. Max sat next to her, grinning lopsidedly as she patiently waited for her to calm.

"That." Chloe began. "Was hella-mazing. There's no way he's a match for you and me now. That was an epic win! And a scary one! God, I'd almost think you were a sociopath or something, the way you just switched that shit on and off."

Max shook her head, and sighed. "I went through a lot of psychological ops training. Ways to lower people's suspicion and guard, and then get the hell away. I don't think I can keep up with the strain of running with that act for hours or days nonstop, but a situation like that, especially where I've had a few rewinds to study him as a person...yeah. I suppose I _am_ kinda scary. And I hate to say it, that was actually fun!"

Sitting back up to join Max on the edge of the bed, Chloe said, in an honest tone of voice, "Well, you saved my ass. Again. You're becoming like my personal angel-slash-bodyguard. A gal could get used to this treatment. I think I feel a song coming on."

"Swear I will kick your ass instead of saving it if you start singing Whitney Houston!" said Max.

Chloe took in a deep lungful of air and started to belt out, "And IIIIiiiiyeeeiiiiii. Will alllllwaaays love...ack!" She was pushed over onto her back, Max jumping on top, and mercilessly tickling her sides. "Now comes the tickleboarding, bitch!" she cackled with glee.

Chloe squirmed and shrieked. "Ah! Max! Ha-ha-hahahaha! Stop...no fair! I swear, I'm gonna pee!"

Max barely relented. "Oh, you always say that, dog. But you're in my power now!"

They stared at each other, both growing suddenly quiet, Max having pinned Chloe's arms above her head with one of her hands. As one, they both blushed and looked away, before starting to giggle softly again.

"Wuss." Chloe teased.

"Hey, don't make me take it to eleven, yo. I will totally tickle your ass until doomsday." Max shot back. She scrubbed at her face with one hand, and when she pulled it away, her expression was much more serious.

"Chloe? No-no offense, but what the hell? Why did your Mom and Dad get divorced? More important, how the hell does Joyce end up marrying a fascist dick like Paul Blart, Mall Cop?"

Chloe bristled a bit; four years down the line, and it was still a sore subject. She had to actively fight back delivering a rather acid comment.

 _Shit. Max doesn't know. Not that there's no easy way to tell her but..._

She bowed her head, and stared down at the floor. "There wasn't a divorce, Max. Dad, he...he's dead. Car accident. Was a few years back.

It was a good ten seconds before Chloe realized that the other girl had completely failed to respond. She craned her neck and looked back. Max was stiff as a statue, like she had been completely shocked, blindsided. Tears were starting to well up in her eyes.

"That impossible! It can't be. Chloe! He can't be dead, not like that...not after I..." Max swallowed back hard, still not meeting her eyes. "W-ait..when? When did it happen? _How_ did it happen?"

Chloe hugged herself, braced internally. It was still painful to talk about, even after all this time. There weren't many people in the world she'd make herself relive that day for. But Max...she earned it. Even before everything that happened today. Chloe wasn't blind, she knew that William was like a father to her as well.

 _Fuck, what a shitty way for her to have to find out._

"It...ah. Was in November, about four years ago. November 7th, God knows I'll never forget the day. 1:35 PM. Um, you remember Alyssa Anderson?"

Max could only nod once, just barely.

"Yeah, well, not long after you left, she got big into volunteer service and shit. Reading to blind kids, Habitat for Humanity. Was...just crazy. I still don't know if she did it to be a suck up or something, but anyhow, she was off to like, the old folks home that day, and wasn't fucking watching where she was crossing the damn street. Dad, he was walking home with some groceries, and he saw what was coming."

 _Oh God. Still...still hurts..._

She started to rock back and forth. "Didn't even stop to think. I mean, that's what people who saw it all told me. I wasn't there. But he just rushed up, pushed her out of the way. Asshole driving the car was using his cell phone, so he wasn't paying attention either. Everyone but Dad was just...just fucking up, you know?"

Max rose up from the bed and drifted towards the closet.

Chloe continued, "Anyhow, a couple years later, Joyce and the Douche were hitched. Never really forgave her, and...and...hey, where are you going?"

Max has reached into the closet, grabbing her coat, and throwing it around her. The look in her eye was absolutely chilling. Like something vital and irreplaceable shattered, a fire that could never be relit guttered out. She made a beeline for the front window, and started to climb out.

"Max?" Chloe asked. "Max, what the shit? Where are you going?!"

In a tight, tiny, faraway voice, Max responded, "O...out. Out, Chloe. I can't...I can't let you watch what's about to happen. Not again. Don't want you to see it. I don't want to fight with you again. Please just..." she bowed over, shuddering, like she was about to vomit. "Just give me some time, okay? Going to the lighthouse, I think. I'll...be back."

Chloe just watched as Max jumped off the roof, landing onto the ground with an acrobatic roll to blunt the force of the impact, and then pulled herself up, drift away. It pained her deeply to watch her friend slowly head out, growing smaller and smaller; a very real part of her was so frightened that after having come back, Max Caulfield was heading out into the sunset, never to be seen again.

She had to take it on faith that this wasn't the case. She'd know Max for a long time, and Chloe had never seen her upset like this before. She had to respect her wishes. Give her an hour, go look for her, hope for the best.

 _O-okay God. Please...don't take my angel away._

* * *

 _ **A/N:**_ Hey Swanketteers, It's Black Swan Saturday! Cory and Lyta are back to give you the fourteenthest chapter yet!

I gotta admit...this chapter and the last one were probably my most favorite to write so far. They also probably went through some of the most editing sweeps before publishing. I really got to get my butt in gear and actually write the rest of chapter 16, and finish up chapter 20.

Fun fact: The Children of Hypatia (from chapter 13) were originally supposed to be the "antagonists" in the very first plot treatment of this series. And now they barely get a passing mention in a conspiracy website. Funny how details change during development.

So, as always...gonna do my best to try and keep something in the hopper and keep to a schedule, but with crazy shit in my life and the holidays coming up, we might run out of buffer by years end. Worry not, worst that happens if we might have to drop to once every two weeks for a while...on the other hand, maybe I'll get a lot of writing done during my weeks vacation next month too!

Oh! And happy N7 Day, all you Mass Effect fans! Be sure to cosplay as Harold Vakarian ;-)


	15. Getting The Band Back Together

Numb and insensate, Max walked the entire distance to the Lighthouse overlook. The place where it all started - more or less. She felt like she'd come full circle. It was a day, much like this one, in early October. This was the place where Martinet laid it all out for her. Plied her with pretty half-truths, the spiel about saving the world. And how important it was to keep her safe from it, as well.

She begged him not to hurt her parents. And he did it anyhow.

She let the mental control she'd summoned up for the walk start to crack, then peel away at last, like scraps of burning parchment blowing away in the wind. From up here, she felt like she was the only person in the world. Prayed that no one was nearby, no one who would hear what was about to come out.

She took in the deepest breath that she could...

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

Her cry reverberated in the woods behind her, startling the wildlife, and driving the birds away. Beyond the immediate buffer of the trees and the constant, gentle ocean breezes, she might have sounded like a fatally wounded creature giving one last defiant bellow; it was a perfect description for how she felt.

She fell to her knees in utter defeat, sobbing uncontrollably.

"Noooooooooo!" she moaned out again.

Every day, every lonely, terrible, horrific, dehumanizing day, every moment when she hit rock bottom, the only way she kept going was when she told herself it was worth it. William had been saved. Chloe would have the normal, happy life that she herself was denied. Max continued to endure because she was secure in the knowledge that her sacrifice had purchased happiness and normality for her best friend.

The one she adored since she was four.

And now, that sacrificed had been rendered meaningless. In barely a year.

She could handle - maybe - the notion there was some sort of karma in the world, some sort of balance. That William was always fated to die, and all she'd done is given Chloe a little more time with her father than she was originally allowed. That might have been enough to salve Max's wounds.

But damn Camilla Davies; she'd done her job too well. Taught Max to consider as many of the angles and variables in a situation as she could, based on limited data. To think outside the box, make intuitive leaps of logic. She only had a limited amount of raw talent for it, but that small amount was now honed to perfection.

" _Yeah, well, not long after you left, she got big into volunteer service and shit._ "

Not long after...

In her mind's eye, Max catches the piece of fruit before it hits Alyssa in the face.

" _H-holy shit, Max. That was amazing!"_

" _Just do me a favor and pay it forward sometime soon, right?"_

Max trembled, stared out into the briny abyss from the cliff's edge, the wind whipping at her face, sea salt mingling with her tears.

 _I did this. I...I saved him. And then I killed him._

Like the single butterfly crushed underfoot in Bradbury's short story, Max's small, almost trivial-seeming acts of random kindness, on the day she was discovered by the SOAP, set a chain of events into motion that ultimately resulted in William Price's death. Another auto accident, just as before.

She was being punished. She couldn't make herself believe it was all mere coincidence.

What was the point? What was the point of any of it?

"Why!?" She screamed out again, towards the clear sky.

 _Why? Why give me this power, only to punish me for having it? Why make my life a living hell?_

"All because I wanted to help people." she whimpered. "All because I wanted to stop other people from hurting."

She curled up on the ground; The setting sun glinting off the water, the clouds gently floating in the breeze, birds soaring on the wind currents. Peaceful, idyllic, lovely. A perfect counterpoint to the base, unremitting sadism of existence.

But there was still New York City. Millions of people dead, millions more injured or crippled. And she stopped that. She saved them all. Somehow. She couldn't even remember how she'd done it, and yet she must have...

 _How will you punish me now, God?_

All she ever wanted to do was help people, and inspire them to help others as well, just like someone special had helped her once, a long, long time ago.

And with Alyssa Anderson, she'd succeeded. In the worst way possible.

 _I could have been just awful, you know? Mean, and selfish, and greedy. I could have run away. I could have made the world bow before me. But I didn't! I didn't! And it's not like I did any of the good things I did, expecting a reward. Not - not really..._

"I didn't deserve it! I didn't deserve any of it!" she roared out, towards a world as beautiful and alluring as it was bitter and atrocious.

Still, It seemed something was punishing her. The universe? Time? God? What was she to do?

One idea came to mind: she was right on the edge of a rather sharp, sudden drop.

It would be so easy to end it all. To fling herself off the cliff, bring an end to this twisted mockery of an existence. Take herself off the field of play, and let the world go back to taking care of it's own damn problems.

What should she do?

Max pulled herself up herself up and sat back down on the bench. Bowed her head. She didn't have to wait long before the answer came to her in a slow burning flash.

 _Endure. Struggle. Inspire others._

If these good deeds and kind actions only pushed the universe to punish her, then the best way to flip Life, the Universe, and Everything both middle fingers was to continue to do better. To be the sand in the gears of the cruel and meaningless machine that was Reality.

She wiped her eyes, snorted through her nose, and stared out defiantly towards the horizon.

 _You will not stop me. Because I welcome your hatred._

And as the minutes ticked by, as the roiling surge of heartache and wrath and defiance drained from her body, Max heaved a huge sigh, flopped her head back, almost to the point where she could see behind her, and groaned.

"Well Jesus fuck...that was a little over the top, huh?"

While the pain of discovering William's death still was still as an aching throb in her heart, the absolute worst of it was passing, leaving her with the next order of business: what the fuck did she do with herself from here?

When she was going through the pockets in her cargo pants earlier, she'd found a compact satellite phone. She recognized the design as one Cammie came up with a while back. Useful for making a few untraceable calls, and if she remembered correctly, also had the ability to 'spoof' its location . The weird, disquieting thing was that Max totally had no memory of taking it with her, certainly not while she was gearing up at Zion. So where did she find it? New York City, maybe?

Because she must have been there. The ATM receipt in her pocket was proof of that...

She could go back to Seattle. Report in to HQ. Hope that maybe PAN-Opticon picked up something weird, something in the way she changed the flow of time, and then they'd believe her.

But even if everything went okay, was she really so eager to willingly walk back into her cage? Even one that was the only life she knew at this point? She'd forgotten what freedom, true freedom tasted like. How sweet. And the thing that made it so awful, at the same time: the fear of having it taken away.

It was like her eyes were opened at last, after a long, terrible nightmare.

 _God, I really was developing my own personal case of Stockholm Syndrome, huh? They had me so fucking beat down, I had to be kicked out of the door and back into the harsh light in order to see what was really going on._

 _Assholes...all of them._

Even Cammie and Alanna seemed that way to her at the moment, though God knows they were definitely the best of a bad lot.

 _And...I mean, it sounds like the SOAP wasn't so bad until Martinet took over, and then I came into existence and freaked everyone out. Totally kicked the status quo...in the dick. Heh._

"Fuck. You're doing it again, Max." she muttered, catching herself making excuses for her jailors.

"Doin' what?" a voice behind her asked.

A soft, gentle hand rested on her shoulder. Just behind her, Chloe was there, a soft, bright smile on her lips.

"H-hi." Max breathed out.

"Hey, SuperMax. Room for one more at the Fortress of Solitude?" Chloe asked.

"For you, Che? Always. Even Superman needs his...uh...Jimmy Olsen?"

Chloe flopped down onto the bench, crossing her legs and leaning in against her side. "Whaaat?! Bitch please, I'm obviously Lois Lane."

Max blushed at this, "Maybe...more like Wonder Woman." She felt the bottom of her stomach drop out, the way Chloe smiled at her. It felt terrible. And awesome.

Like something she'd love to feel again.

"Yeah, but Wonder Woman with the pants and the leather jacket, not the star-spangled panties and hooker boots." Chloe said.

Max giggled, wiping her eyes dry again. "That's totally more your style."

"You alright?" Chloe asked, her voice filled with concern, even as she removed the fattest joint Max had ever seen. Admittedly, it was also the first and only joint she'd ever seen.

"No. But I'm gonna be. I think." she whispered.

"I'm sorry, that was a really shitty way to find out, about Dad. I mean, I don't think there was a _better_ way, although it would've probably involved you finding out first, and having time to process before being exposed to the Step-shit. Oh my God! Thank you again by the way for screwing with him, that was - ha ha! So fucking awesome!

Max nodded a few times, not looking straight on at Chloe; she needed to tell her the truth. About William and how he died once before, and how saving him was the trigger for her powers emerging. She couldn't keel something like that locked away forever, where the weight of it would slowly, poisonously gnaw away at her.

But the truth sure as hell didn't have to be told today.

"Believe I owe you an audience, for a story, right?" Chloe said. "So I'm gonna sit here, and smoke my dutchie, and if you like, I'll even pass it on the left hand side. Unless you're still straight-edgin'?" She winked, then added. "But seriously, no pressure. If it isn't for you then...hey, more for me!"

Max shook her head, emphatically. "Five years of trying to be the good girl. Fuck that, what did it get me? Five lost years, parents who don't remember me, and people dead or worse. Doesn't look like weed's killed you yet, so what the hell, right?"

"Yes! Das what I likes to hear! Fight the power! C'mon girlfriend, lets get you stoned. First hit's free. And uh, second and third, and so on." Max gently clamped her lips around the tip, as Chloe lit up the front end with an old Zippo.

Max puffed away, coughed hard to the point of choking, completely unprepared for the heat of the smoke.

Chloe laughed gently. "No..no...you gotta pace yourself a little, take it in sips if you're starting out. Here, try it again."

It took a few more attempts until she managed to get a lungful of smoke, at least such that it didn't make her hack and wheeze, and consider abandoning the entire effort.

A few minutes later, and she was already feeling...well...something. A definite something. A fun something! A buzz, a giddy sense of relaxation and warmth. A feeling that everything was actually pretty okay at the moment, and she really ought to just kick back and chill.

God, the first signs of sunset wereg magnificent; Max could stare at it forever. The cry of the gulls lilting and lovely. The sea glittered with a golden patina, as the sky brightly burned in shades of sapphire and violet.

 _Just like Chloe's hair._

Chloe must have caught her zoning out, and said, "Yeah. You're good. You're soooo good for now, no more. Trust me, you don't wanna get over-stoned your first time, and you still need to be able to concentrate so you can talk. But-but it's good yeah?"

Max giggled, rubbing her arms.

 _Oh man. Flannel feels awesome right now!_

"Y-yeah. Good. I think I kinda like it, Che"

Chloe took a long, luxurious drag, and then held it for a good five seconds. She didn't bother to blow it, instead letting it bleed out as she spoke. "Maxaroni and Che! We're getting the band back together at last. I'll make a stoner queen of you yet!"

Max laughed now, tilting her head back and lolling it about. "Ha! Oh...oh fuck! Maxaroni and Ch-che...Oh God! I forgot about that one. Jesus...I missed you, Chloe. I missed this. I mean, we never quite had this shit before, but we had stuff like it. Age appropriate and everything, right? Every year, every day we had Our Thing that we shared, just the two of us. Whatever it was."

"Yup. And now Our Thing is weed, apparently. Anyhow, start talking. I'll just sit here and listen." Chloe wrapped a comforting arm around her.

Max found the physical contact reassuring, only heightening the warm and lovely haze she currently inhabited. "It was five years ago. I...there was...I found I accidentally went back in time somehow. Like two weeks back. Made a change that altered the future."

Stoned or no, she still wasn't in any shape to tell Chloe the whole truth right now.

 _Maybe even later this week. But now? No. I just can't._

"Oh yeah? What did you do?" Chloe asked. Max wasn't sure if she believed her, but she at least was listening without judgment.

"Um...I drew a butterfly on your fireplace. You know, so I'd know it was for real? And uh...your Dad took a picture of us, so I went and took a picture of you and your Dad together, as well."

Chloe blinked. "Is that all?" She paused quietly, at the mention of her father. "I mean, I remember those pictures. Some of my favorites. Pretty sure I still have them both. Oh wait! I think I remember that day, kinda. Joyce needed to get picked up from the diner, and Dad had to take the bus, because he couldn't find his keys for some weird reason."

Max paused at that, then nodded once,"Yeah well, I know it's going to sound crazy, but the picture of you and your Dad didn't exist before I went back in time to take it. And...and the Government found out. They have sensors and satellites, for people like me. We're called Specials. And...and they came into town and found me..."

She spent the better part of an hour, recounting the tale. Arcadia Bay's terrible fate, the one that would have struck had she not left the way she did. Why the whales and the birds were dying, why the snow flurry came. Why she suddenly stopped chatting with her, the last time they texted each other. What the government did to her parents. Her life in Zion Control. The people who were kind to her. The people who made her life a living hell. Everything up to and including heading off on her mission to New York City.

She let it all out, in almost one, non-stop narrative her hands becoming animated during the particularly intense parts. At times, Max needed to pause, pull herself back together lest she start crying.

Chloe listened all the while. Asked questions here and there. Laughed at some parts, and glowered with almost murderous intent at others. But she never mocked her, never cried 'bullshit'. She was Chloe and she was her best friend, and she listened, really listened.

And that made all the difference.

There was one aspect to it that Chloe immediately jumped on.

"Wait a fucking second! Shit! So some asshole was brainwashing your parents?" Chloe exclaimed with disbelief.

"Don't be so hard on him. Reese hated doing it. He hated it, and it kind of destroyed him in the end. He wanted to be good, do the right thing. It's easy to judge, what people do under orders, when you're outside the machine, looking in. I get that now. I hate it, but I understand it."

Chloe paused. "Wait...wait. Was he a guy in his thirties, kind of pudgy but still cute, black hair?"

Max nodded. "Yeeeah. And yes, if you're about to ask, you saw him, once. He was drunk, and broke down in front of you. Told you that I was being kept prisoner, and that I wanted to write you. And that I missed you. All true, by the way."

Chloe's eyes widened, gripping her head, absolutely incredulous. "Fuck! I...I thought that was a dream! Like I didn't remember it, and then, I don't even know when it happened. I guess when Rachel and I were...anyhow. So it wasn't a dream! Shit, dude!" She reached over, and affably slapped Max on the shoulder. "I remember most of it now! Holy shit, like...like I was about go all Xena on his ass, you know? Storm the castle and shit for you. Honest! Damn, That's so hella uncool. Fucking with my mind like that."

"He didn't want you to get hurt, Chloe. He slipped up, and he was just trying to protect you. That's all." Max said softly.

"Whatever! Pfft. Asshole." Chloe dismissed.

Max grinned. "But I know about you getting ready to kick ass in my name. I saw. He, uh, he shared those memories with me, or more like...he created copies of his memories in my head. So that I could see you, and see how you were doing. And if you want to do me a solid right now, give me another puff. I think my buzz is wearing off."

"Ha ha! Yes, yes, m'lady! We gonna git you down wit de reefer madness!" Chloe said, as she handed Max the remains of the still considerable joint, and lit it up for her.

Max took another long, greedy inhalation; it was getting easier with practice already. She blew the smoke out. The warm rush quickly returned, and Max called out, "Fuck you, DEA! America's precious secret super weapon is getting totally baked!"

They both dissolved into peals of hysterical laughter, almost falling off the bench. Chloe held on, supporting herself as she called out in a cheesy, Eastern European accent. "Yeeees, capitalist peeg-dogs! Your precious ZooperMax is now in our zexy, zexy clawtches!"

Max held out her arms, zombie style, and started to chant. "Must destroy...family values. Baseball. Apple pie." She stopped. "Oh shit! I could totally go for an apple pie! Fuck, I am starving." She turned to Chloe. "Are you starving? I think I forgot to eat for a whole day again. Jesus, I better break out the emergency rations."

Chloe took one more drag, and started to laugh again. "Munchies munchies, cha cha cha! Yeah, I could go for a whole bunch of In-And-Out Burger. They just opened up a new one in town." She paused. "Uh Max, what the fuck are you sucking down?"

Max had retrieved one of her emergency calorie packets, and was now slurping away from the silver wrapper. "'Ish calt Plumpy'Nut." she muttered with a full mouth. Swallowing some of it, she added. "It's for emergency treatment of malnutrition, but I take a few packets with me sometimes, because I get a little confused from time travel, and forget to eat as often as I should. It's kind of like Super Nutella and...ooooooooh fuck that's so good right now! Man, this stuff tastes way more awesome than I remember!" She continued finishing up her packet, while handing one to Chloe, who tore it open and tried a few nibbles.

"Wow. Your weird ass government superhero chow is surprisingly tasty, dog. Course, helps we're hella stoned." Chloe remarked, as she continued to take judicious bites.

"Ha ha! Oh my God, we totally are! This is the best! I actually kinda love this!" Max cried out, wiggling in her seat.

Chewing through the cocoa peanut butter paste, Chloe asked. "Okay, serious talk time again. Max, I wanna believe you. I totally do. I'm working my way there. This story though, about time travel, and superpowers, and fire blasting women, and smart hot British chicks and government assholes and...on one hand, it's too good to be true. I mean seriously, can you blame me for thinking it all sounds like you went crazy and made up a weird ass delusional fantasy world for yourself?"

She took another small drag before continuing, "On the other, it makes too much fucking sense. I mean seriously! What happened to your parents. Shit, what happened to me! I...may not believe you as much as I should, okay? Not yet. I'm trying my best to get there. But I don't think you're lying. Does that make sense?"

Max nodded once. "Ya-huh." she murmured, mouth thick and sticky as she worked some of the paste off her roof of her mouth.

"So...so what are you gonna do now, then? You saved New York City, but you can't remember how you did it. And you don't have this metal doodad with all the proof that you were out on a mission. So now if you go back, they're gonna think you ran away from base?"

"Something like that. Probably" Max nodded. "I'm fucked. I'd probably be freaking out over it more, except...between the weed and being home, and being with you. I just don't care. At least for the moment. I don't care as much as I probably should. Maybe it's like shock, and later tonight or tomorrow, I'm going to totally freak." She paused, weighing over the enormity of what she was about to say next.

"I...I don't think I'm going back, Chloe. It's different now. Compared to when I was being watched non-stop, and they convinced me that having what little life they were starting to give me was as good as it was going to get. That it was all I could hope for...but I'm out here now. I'm smoking weed for the first time, I'm hanging out with the girl that..." Max turned, and looked at Chloe with an intense gaze. "The one they made me give up hope of ever seeing again."

If there was one thing she couldn't forgive them for, aside from what was done to her parents, it was that. Making her lose that hope.

Max continued. "It's all different now, out here. Not to mention that something so terrible happened to me, that I can't even remember it. I mean, I'm assuming it was terrible. I don't know how to explain it, but I just have this feeling in my gut. Something broke me, on that mission." She shook her head. "So no. I can't go back, Chloe. If I do, it's going to kill me. Bit by bit, day by fucking day. That much is obvious."

"Wait, so doesn't that mean you're going to end up being a fugitive from the Feds?" Chloe asked.

Max didn't even hesitate. "Yeah. It does. I mean, as much as this has been awesome, I probably need to get ready to head off tomorrow. I'd probably be running now, except I seem to have somehow gotten out of the base without my tracker on, so that's awesome! And all their satellite trackers only really work when someone Emerges. That was years ago for me, and while Davies might have built better sensors, there's a kind of natural background radiation that exists here, that I added to years ago, that's giving me a sort of shield. And if they were expecting me to be in New York city like, hours ago, then they may not think to start looking out here for a day or two."

Tucking away the empty wrapper in her pocket, Max continued, "Still, I gotta hit the road, get some distance between me and the rest of the US. All I've got is one set of clothes and three hundred bucks and a few more packs of Plumpy'Nut, but there are places I can sneak into, across the Canadian border. Catch a boat to Iceland, beg for political asylum maybe."

"Uhhh...sounds like maybe you've given this more than a little thought over the years, Maxima." Chloe smirked.

"Just...just a thought exercise. You know, like if a mission went bad, and I had to escape. Uh, kinda like now, I guess?" Max demurred.

"Suurrre. But...wait! No...you...you can't leave tomorrow! You just got here, dog!" Chloe whined softly.

Max shook her head. "Can't stay, Che. Too dangerous. Fuck, bad enough you know what you know now. Putting you and your family at risk."

Chloe grabbed her arm gently and pleaded. "Look..just...just stay. Okay? I mean, not forever, but a week? Three days? Just more than one lousy night! What's the worst that happens if you really get caught? You were so screwed up when I found you, so obviously something really bad happened to you right? Like maybe you got caught in an explosion or hit on the head. If they find you here, we'll just tell them you had amnesia. That you barely remembered who you were, that you thought you were thirteen again. Or whatever. But you didn't say anything about any superpowers to me of course, and whatevs. Maybe you'll get lucky, and it'll just be your friend, the one that shoots fire, who finds you. She sounds cool. And cute! Anyone who drinks rattlesnake juice sounds absolutely hella cool. And then I'll...something something, distract her, and you can run away again."

"You know...it may be the weed talking..." Max started.

"Speaking of which, here, one last big drag, you know, to continue your evil brainwashing." Chloe handed Max both the joint and the lighter now, letting her blaze away on her own.

The last drag left her lungs aching, her throat burning, and her head floating on cloud nine.

"...but...but uh. Um. Yeah. What was I saying? Oh right...you were talking. With your plan. Huh. That might work. As an idea. But we have to do a few things, to not make it so, you know, obviously unsafe." She handed the Zippo back to Chloe.

"Liiiike?"

"Ummmm...like, I should wear a hoodie outside, as often as possible, sunglasses too. Keep a low profile. You got more hair dye? I should dye my hair. And we'll need to stay away from any major surveillance zones: bus depots, airports, sporting arenas, casinos." Max began to tick off the points of her plan.

"Aw shit! Really? But I was gonna drive us up to Chinook Winds and see if your power could win us more cash!"

Max blanched. "Geezus Chloe, casinos are more heavily monitored than most military installations!"

"Alright, alright, no worries. My dreams of instant wealth and power have been so totally crushed." Chloe paused. "Wait...no wait. What about keno? Keno is like in every fucking podunk bar in town, even the ones that are part restaurant, and you can play it if you're eighteen. It's not a lot of money, but if you tell me what numbers to pick, we'll have the rest of the money I need in no time!"

Max blinked. "Oh. Oh fuck. Oh fuck fuck fuck, that could kinda work! I mean, we'd have to keep the individual amounts small, hit a few places..."

Chloe rose up, tugging at her arm. "C'mon. We can grab some take out, and then we'll drive home, and I can start on dying your hair, and plotting our evil plots to make the world bow before us. The only other color I have is black though, that ok?" Chloe asked.

Max giggled. "Black. Black and blue? Ha ha! Yeah. Yeah that's awesome. Really, we'll be awesome. For cereal."

* * *

Chloe guided her down the path to the truck. They gorged themselves on cheeseburgers, fries, and milk shakes once they reached the local burger shack. She proceeded to fill Max in on the highlights - and lowlights - of five years worth of pop culture, events, music. Anything she might have missed during her cloistered existence in Zion.

They sparked up just a little bit more, to keep the high going, quickly sneaking past Joyce and David without being noticed when they got back to Chloe's house, and then rushing into the bathroom.

Max was leaning over the tub, as Chloe prepared the dye.

"You know, this reminds me of a computer game I just finished playing. came out a few months ago." Chloe mused, as she started to rub, slow, soft and deep against Max's scalp.

"Mmmmmhmmyeah? Was' it called. Was' it about?" she asked.

"Gone Home. It was...ah...about a couple of girls. Our age, really. And they're riotgrrls, total authentic, 'cause the game, you know, it takes place in 1994. And they make 'zines because the Internet didn't exist back then, and they go to concerts, and one of the characters dyes her hair, her friend does it for her and..."

Max smiled to herself, as she listened. It really felt nice, Chloe rubbing her scalp like that. Close.

 _Intimate._

"...and she talks in her journal about how intimate just getting the dye job was." Chloe said, as if reading her mind.

Max rubbed back against the fingertips, just a little bit, smiling happily, as she replied. "Cool. Cool game, Che. Sounds kinda like us."

"Ah. Hah. Yeah. Maybe? They...they run off together. Because one of the girls, she's about to join the military, and the other she...well...anyhow, like I said, they run off together."

Max could hear the catch in Chloe's voice, but she was too sleepy, well fed, and stoned to make anything of it. Just way too happy to care about much beyond focusing on the feeling of contentment, between a belly full of fries and Chloe's hands on her head.

A half hour later, she washed the dye out, Chloe's fingers returning to her scalp, rubbing her head under warm rivulets of water.

Max toweled. off, and apprised herself in the mirror. Turned her head this way and that, watching the smile on her face blossom.

"Ohhhh yeah. Look at me. Yup. I'm bad." She started to preen. "I'm gonna gel it, slick it back in the morning. Sooooo bad. Evil! I'm like...evil drunk Superman in that old, old movie." she murmured.

Chloe giggled and asked, "Oh yeah? Which one was that?"

"I think it was called Superman: The Drunkening."

They dashed back into Chloe's room, giggling all the way, closing the door behind them.

"Well, Evil SuperMax. Welcome to the Chloe side. We have cookies." She tossed a package of Little Debbie wafer snacks at her. "We also have movies, which you and I are totally gonna watch now. Staaaarting...with. You said Canada right? Like yeah, you'd run off to Canada? Here, this one is cool." Chloe started to rummage through her DVD rack, until she pulled out a slim case; an obvious bootleg copy.

"Rock And Rule?" Max asked, uncertain.

"It was made in Canada though. That was my point. But It's good. Oh shit, it's so good. Like cheesy good. You just trust me, okay? "

Max spread herself out on the pile of pillows that Chloe laid out on the floor and then smirked upward. "Seems I really don't have any choice. I'm rather powerless to resist your wicked charms."

They both burst out into laughter again, and curled up together watch the movie. It didn't make much in the way of sense to Max, but any cartoon about a post-apocalyptic world ruled by mutant animals and demon-summoning rock music was absolutely the shit right now.

Still, she couldn't entirely fool herself. Her potential doom was still hanging over her head. She was Damocles. The sword of chaos, held back by the slim thread, was ever threatening. She glanced up for a moment, at the ceiling as if she could see that sword suspended above her.

 _Well, if I'm screwed...then fuck it. I'm screwed. At least I'm in the best place to make a last stand._

* * *

 _ **A/N:**_ Hey Swanketteers, it's Black Swan Saturday! And so Monday comes to a close with the three parter that was my favorite thing to write thus far. My thanks as always to the ever awesome **Corentin IV** , to whom I'm sending extra loving vibes tonight. She knows why. *hugs*

Oh! And while I'm at it, I have started following not one, but TWO awesome medieval LiS AU series that have recently premiered. Long time Awesome-Friend-Of-The-Lyta **Theodur** launched Closer Than Sisters, which is a mashup of LiS and Dragon Age. I don't know much about DA, but I'm liking what I'm seeing! Also, Not as long time, but still Awesome-Friend-Of-The-Lyta **rowanred81** is publishing Wyrd Ways, Strange Days, set in an original medieval, swords and sorcery setting. And shit, I totally need to catch up on the latest chapter.

So seriously, check them both out, give them both love!

Speaking of Gone Home - which by the way is awesome, and you should play - Ashley Burch's latest episode of "Hey Ash, Whatcha Playing" addresses the topic. I wrote this chapter weeks ago, so it was just a happy coincidence :-D

The next couple of chapters are going to be a bit of an interlude, filling in some of what happened to Max in New York City, and what Cammie and the Gang are up to right now. And then by chapter 18, it's the Max and Chloe Show again!

Have a great weekend folks...and happy belated Veterans Day as well!

Also: Rock And Rule is awesome. There, I said it.


	16. An Infinite Sea Of Ghosts

**Monday, October 7th, 2013**

 **In Transit to New York City**

"What are you trying to tell us? What are we going to find when we reach you?"

Camilla murmured softly to herself, staring intently at the small tablet computer in her hand, as she continued to study the data coming in from both PAN-Opticon and the sensor-rich grid that made up much of the infrastructure of Manhattan.

She'd never seen anything like it. It was almost as if reality itself was trying to tell her a story, only it couldn't make up it's mind as to what direction it wanted to take the narrative. One moment, PAN-O was swearing blind that half of Brooklyn suddenly Emerged at once, only to take it all back. Other readings, consistent with massive gamma ray bombardment, swept back and forth between the Jersey Shore and Long Island, except that after a few seconds, it was obvious that those readings were false.

 _False...or ghosts. Almost like a virtual event taking place, just next door to our reality; enough to affect our sensors, but evaporating the moment we try to take a closer look. Every time I catch one of these bloody things, there's a corresponding spike in chronoton emissions, and then it's gone._

 _Heisenberg, you bastard; you must be howling with laughter from beyond the grave._

The worrying part was the underlying current; a energy signature of sorts. Of the kind she'd only seen once before, almost five years ago to the day: Max's Emergence.

 _Clearly she's caught up in all of this, somehow. But...bloody hell. If we sent her into this, then we've made a right proper mess of things!_

Camilla leaned back in her chair, staring up at the ceiling of the C-17 Globemaster III that served as Damocles' mobile command center. She closed her eyes, letting the soft roar of the engines lull her into a meditative state; trying to take all the disparate pieces and make a cognitive leap of intuition.

"Alright." she whispered softly. "Some sort of massive event occurred...will occur...at 1:12 PM, New York time, if my extrapolation of the resonance buildup is correct. It must have been a disaster. Something so shocking that we sent Max back in time to warn us about it. But why can't we find her? Why is her temporal signature all over the place in Manhattan? And what about all of the other readings?"

 _Right then. Gamma radiation, in massive bursts. Most consistent with a nuclear explosion. But we're not seeing any sort of ghosts that would imply radioactive fallout. The seismic events...those are happening somewhere in Chinatown. At least we have a good idea where 'ground zero' is._

 _A terrorist attack. Some sort of nuclear detonation. That's the most obvious answer. But if Max stopped it, why are we seeing these echoes? Did it somehow interact with her powers? Possibly weaken the local fabric of space/time, make it more..brittle, somehow?_

Years ago, Camilla once ran some simulations together with her compatriot over at Rising Sun, Shimiko Tetsumaru, as part of the creation of the Black Swan Event list. Trying to determine how atomic blasts temporarily warped, or possibly ruptured the local fabric of reality. The computational power requirements to model the effects were astronomical, and even with time procured from the world's most powerful supercomputers, their results were inconclusive at best.

 _Still,there are similarities, between those simulations and what we're seeing now. And why does PAN-O keep insisting that it's picking up Emergence events? Unless the shock of a nuclear blast suddenly creates enough instant trauma to cause individual persons to Emerge, if just for a moment, before their lives are snuffed out?_

She groaned; they were looking at one of the most unusual time/space anomalies in modern history, and it was only growing stronger in resonance the closer they got to the zero-hour.

She wasn't sure if she could stop it, whatever it was. Assuming it could be stopped. Or perhaps, they'd stopped it already, and this was just the aftermath. As if the original nuclear - potentially nuclear, that is - event had displaced the very stuff of reality itself, and whatever actions Max might have taken in preventing the event from occurring was now causing all of the quantum particles that existed in all points of reality at once to come rushing back in to fill the sudden vacuum.

There wasn't anything more she could figure out at the moment, not without more concrete data. She let her attention drift back to her tablet, quickly glancing over the latest update from Martinet. Apparently, he was having a hell of a time establishing and enforcing appropriate departmental jurisdiction over the situation; this thing was 'noisy' enough that it had attracted the attention of not only DHS, but the FBI as well as the military proper, not to mention the quakes were strong enough now to trip up the equipment at the US Geological Service. With all these different groups jockeying for position, and everyone other than Damocles being more or less in the dark, the NYPD was bound to be running around like a chicken with it's head cut off, wondering what the hell was going on.

She leaned over, and thumbed the intercom. "Albertson, what's our current ETA?"

"Hey bosslady." His bass voice rumbled. "Was just about to call you about that. Half an hour ago, we picked up a pretty big storm system drifting right into our flight path. It's kicking up a lot of turbulance, not to mention the headwind. We're going to fly around it and...I'm sorry, ma'am, we're doing our best, but there's a good chance we're not going to make it to the ground in time.

"Bloody...damnit!" she swore. She'd been trying to contact and corral as many East Coast resources as she could, but Damocles was still a tiny fish in a big pond. Incredibly exotic and increasingly valuable, but still something of a mouse that constantly insists on roaring. She could probably get a secondary science team into position ...maybe. But without her direct expertise, they'd no doubt overlook something. At the very least, she hoped they might be able to record their findings, and she could study it later.

"Right then. If you're absolutely certain there's no way you can get through or above that storm without unacceptable risk, we'll just have to roll with the punches."

"Hold on a moment, _jefa._ " Rodriguez cut in. She served as co-pilot and navigator during flight operations. "Uhh...I just got the latest data from NWS. That storm? It just sorta starting picking up speed and shifting direction. If the projected path it's taking holds, it'll cut around and to the back of us pretty soon. Better yet, it's gonna open up a seriously useful tailwind corridor. If we take it, we'll have no trouble getting there. Ahead of schedule."

"Huh." Albertson murmured. "Can't say I've seen a storm system move that cooperatively before. Talk about a lucky break. "

"Hmmmm" Camilla murmured, deep and low in the back of her throat. "Yes. Luck. Well, keep me informed if anything changes."

"Will do."

"Luck." she repeated. "Or design? Perhaps something or someone is making sure we make it."

She wasn't sure whether to take comfort in or be terrified of the possibility

Walking to the small bar near the middle half of the passenger deck, she helped herself to a shot of whiskey in clear defiance of normal protocol, glancing out pensively through one of the windows. Wright and Sweeney were passing the time by playing poker.

"Kind of early for the hard stuff, isn't it Ma'am?" Wright asked.

Camilla shrugged. "Something tells me we're going to have the sort of day where we're all going to need a little extra courage before it's over.

* * *

Things continued to go smoothly as soon as they touched down. Surprisingly so. The vans ran down the ramp the moment the plane was off the runway, and they headed straight into the city. Traffic was cooperative and well routed, despite the initial complications with coordination and they managed to make it well ahead of schedule into Chinatown; not once did they hit a red light.

 _Curious that. Very curious._

To the average person, it might all seem like good luck. To Camilla, always calculating the odds, always crunching the numbers, as natural as breathing at this point, she couldn't help but feel like the fortune was unnaturally on their side.

 _First the storm mysteriously blowing off the moment it might present a threat, and now this. As if we're starting to see distant quantum flux events already, from whatever phenomenon is building up in Chinatown._

With fifty minutes to spare, all three vans screeched to a halt near Elizabeth Street. Camilla was pleased to see that a minimum two block area was already cordoned off. All seemed to be running smooth as silk; at least until they came to the agent manning one of the barricades, holding a hand out commandingly as he ordered them to halt. Not that this was out of the ordinary; Camilla expected they'd just be waved on through, and go about their work.

The rather non-descript towheaded man in a dark suit, and sunglasses walked over to the van. Camilla popped out of the back, badge in hand, which she proceeded to flash.

"Special Agent Davies, Homeland Security. I believe we're expected."

The man pointedly scrutinized her badge. He frowned and then glanced up, pointedly refusing to identify himself. "What the hell branch is the SOAP? Never heard of it."

"Then we're doing our job. Now, as I said, I believe we've been expected. If you could please let us pass, we're in a bit of a rush to contain the situation." Davies responded.

The other agent's frown deepened. "Look, it took us two hours to properly establish this perimeter and lockdown the area. I'm not about to let in a bunch of yahoos from some agency I've never heard of in without official clearance from my supervisor."

Camilla let out a hard, heavy sigh, and considered her options. This wasn't exactly new territory for her; departmental rivalries were bad enough, but the SOAP and especially Damocles was enough of a "black" agency that she often ran into this sort of suspicion.

She could try charm, or she could wait however long it would take, with time rapidly ticking down. Or she could proceed straight to the 'nuclear option'; given that she and her team were tracking a ghost of a atomic blast, that second option fit.

She reached into her coat, pulling out her cellphone. Pressing a few speed dial buttons, she held it to her ear, and spoke softly once the other side answered.

"Director Comey? Yes, my apologies, it's Camilla Davies, from Homeland Security. The SOAP? Right, yes, I _am_ calling about the situation in New York City. We're just a block away from where I need to deploy my team, but one of your men seems to have other ideas. I was wondering if you wouldn't mind having a chat and working it out? Right then, cheers. Thank you, sir."

She handed the phone out to the other agent.

"Hello?" he said. Blinked, and then paled, as he realized exactly who it was that was now sharply addressing him.

Camilla reached up, clapped him on the shoulder and murmured, "I'll be letting us through now. Trot on over and return my phone when you're done, won't you?" The unnamed agent gave her a mixture of a angry glare and frightened confusion., but did nothing else to stop her from moving aside the barrier and waving the vans through.

Once they were stationed in front of an abandoned tenement, Wright jumped out the back, shaking her head and snorting. "Was looking out from the back of the van; did you just dial the Director of the FBI?"

Camilla softly replied, a smile creeping across her lips, "His wife and I play canasta on occasion."

"Oh please. You fucking enjoyed that."

Camilla quirked a corner of her mouth upward. "Damn right I did. Now, let's contain the area. I've been waiting for an anomaly like this to try out some new gear I've recently developed. Those crates I had you all load into the vans? Open them up, and retrieve six of the devices. Set them up roughly equidistant from each other around those buildings there. Once that's done, I want you to make sure that absolutely no one makes it past the perimeter line we're setting up. Get Albertson, have him, Rodriguez, Sweeney and Snord each take a quadrant. I'll start setting up the rest of the monitoring gear. The actual science team is about an hour behind us; they won't make it in time for whatever's about to happen, but they can start crunching the data."

Davies' orders were quickly executed, and with barely twenty minutes until the final buildup of the event, everything was in place. Reaching over to one of the control panels, she keyed in a command sequence. All of the devices, thin metal towers roughly four feet high, set on small tripods, began to hum loudly. Rings of light set into their metal casing began to flash, and then pulse in patterns. There was a curious effect, like laser beams joining all of them together in a circle, before it disappeared.

"Right. So what are these new toys of yours, anyhow?" Wright asked.

"Quantum field stabilizers."

Wright lifted up her hands, and said with exasperation, "Oh right. I knew that. I took one look at them and said 'Yup. Sure is a fine quantum flux calibrator..."

"...stabilizer, and now you're just being cheeky." Camille smirked. "Long story short, the most current theory I'm pursuing with how an Emergence interacts with the fabric of reality is that the actual physical site where the Emergence itself occurs creates a temporary wound. This 'wound' then becomes a centralized nexus of quantum instability, at least until the flare window passes. This nexus and the newly emerged Special share a quantum resonance that gains in strength the closer they are to each other. This is why we can lower the CFI of the local reality if we move them out of the area; you'll no doubt remember what happened with Max and Arcadia Bay five years ago."

Wright nodded once, grimly. "And...?"

"I'm hoping that whatever this anomaly is, some quantum echo of a disaster that occurred in another timeline perhaps, that these devices will contain any disruptive quantum effects that will probably be unleashed when it gains full strength." Camilla mused.

"You're hoping?" Wright drawled.

"Yes, well, it's not like I've had a lot of opportunities to test them. Assuming we all survive what's about to happen, the data we get back will be of immense scientific value!"

The other agent shook her head, and muttered, "Wish you wouldn't be so damned excited. We literally have no idea what the fuck is going to happen in fifteen minutes from now, right?"

"No. But if it is going to be catastrophic, there's no sense in worrying about it now. We're too close to escape it, and I imagine we'll never feel it coming. If that's of any comfort to you." Davies chuckled lightly, patting Wright's arm, and then went down into the basement of the building where the anomalous readings were centered. It was dark, musty. Clearly not having seen much use in the past few years. The floor was almost entirely covered in oilcloth tarps, except for one bare patch that stuck out.

Hauling camera gear and spotlights with two other agents, they quickly got to work. The seismic shaking was unnerving, like a constant jackhammer was running beneath their feet. There was also something else in the air, which Camilla couldn't put her finger on. Like a mental pressure, weighing down on her brain, growing with intensity second by second. Not that she had any plans before to be in this basement when 1:12 PM rolled along, but she was absolutely certain now that they wanted to be clear of the area.

With three minutes to spare, they emerged from the building, and started turning on and testing the camera, lights and sensors, all running through to control displays in the lead van.

And then they waited.

Rodriguez glanced down at her watch, and murmured low. "Thirty seconds to go, _jefa._ You feel like making odds on us surviving whatever's about to go down?"

"Sure; if we all die horribly, I owe you dinner." Davies said.

Suddenly, Wright pointed out a finger and called out. "Whoa! Hey, the fuck? Who let him past...hey. HEY! Get out! Get! The Fuck! Back out here!"

Camilla groaned; one of the local NYPD clearly got too curious and managed to slip in during all the coming and going. There was a confused expression on his face, as if he wasn't sure he was the one being referred to.

"Oh...bloody damn! We need to get him...Alanna, damnit, get back here!"

Rodriguez ran off, trying to drag the police officer back towards the outside of the containment ring. Despite her better judgement, Davies ran along behind her, hoping the two of them could quickly drag him out together in time.

They nearly made it, but were a second or two behind when it happened.

When reality simply ceased to exist.

In a bright flash of light and a horrific roaring boom, a great curtain of searing heat washed over them. Camilla could feel every nerve on her body light up in agony. She was grateful that whatever was happening, she wouldn't be alive to endure it more than another few fractions of a second.

As quickly as it began, the worst of it passed. The air twisted and turned, as if constantly being warped by heat shimmer. Camilla was still on her feet, and although she felt like absolute shit, she was clearly doing better than the other two, who'd already vomited.

She managed to drag Alanna and the officer out of the containment zone.

"Sweeney? I want you to get both of them to the van, make sure they're okay. But that officer is not allowed to leave the area until we've figured out how to deal with him appropriately.

 _Shit. Going to have to keep this quiet, convince the man to shut his gob for his own sake. If Martinet gets wind of this..._

Wright grabbed her by the shoulders. "Hey! You okay? You all just sort of...collapsed out there, out of the blue."

Camilla blinked. "What. Seriously? Did you all completely fail to notice the massive phantom explosion?"

Wright tilted her head. "Guess so. Don't know what it looked like from your end, but over here? Those fancy devices of yours started getting real, real loud, like they were working overtime. There was kind of a flash, but it was real brief, like I wasn't even sure what I saw at all."

"Huh. Well, then, it seems we're caught yet another lucky break. I shudder to think what we'd be having to deal with right now if we'd not manage to contain the anomaly. Whatever sort of...explosion or blast we experienced, it might have hit the entire city. We might be having to explain to the whole of New York what they just saw." Camilla stated.

"Well. I mean, this _is_ kinda why they pay you the big bucks, bosslady." Wright said with a shrug. "And at least that damn jackhammering noise's stopped. God, that was giving me a headache."

Camilla blinked, as something suddenly occurred to her. She called out, "Someone...get me a geiger counter, please?"

After a few minutes, she was pleased to discover that neither she, nor Alanna, nor the police officer were quickly dying from radiation poisoning, or suffering from any other long term deleterious effects consistent with being exposed to a nuclear blast. If anything, she was surprised that she didn't find anything more. They all seemed to be in relatively good health, other than the lingering mental effects."

Her phone, having been returned to her earlier by a much more cooperative Agent Deckard - the man finally properly identifying himself, and apologizing appropriately - rang.

"It's Martinet. Davies, what the hell is happening out there in New York?! I've got the Generals at NORAD absolutely panicked. Cheyenne Mountain is convinced that the city was nuked, but the readings passed after ten seconds. Now they're about to drop to DefCon 2 unless I can give them a good reason to stand down!"

"I'm not sure what to tell them sir, other than I'm standing here now. In New York City. Clearly unhurt, and that if they start opening up the missile silos now, they'll needlessly alarm the rest of the world and feel silly about it afterwards. Tell them that the situation's been contained for the moment, and I will of course give you a full report as soon as I've got something more specific to tell you."

"You've got to give me a little more than that." Martinet demanded "What did you determine on the trip over, from the study of the initial results when the anomaly first emerged?"

Davies sighed hard. "To be fair, there were...ghosts. Virtual readings of a nuclear blast. As if it was supposed to, or possibly _had_ occurred at this point in space and time previously, but then...didn't. And now we're seeing significant temporal fluctuations associated with this incident. If I had to hypothesize, based on what we know to date, I'd say that we're currently inhabiting a changed timeline. In the original, the city was completely obliterated. I'm sure from that point, Storyteller Protocol was executed, and we sent Max back with as much information as we could gather, in the hopes we could prevent it. Clearly she succeeded...to a point."

She started to wander towards the command van and continued, "Why _any_ sort of anomaly emerged afterwards, I haven't a clue. What's more distressing, is that we still can't find Max. There's no trace of her on any of the trackers. I don't have enough information at present to determine if she survived the mission. I won't know more until I can study what's going on past the containment field we've set up. The good news is that the stabilizers worked, and kept the entire city from experiencing the temporary and curious sensation of...well..I suppose what it's like to die in a nuclear fireball."

Martinet growled, "I think I'm going to wait before I even ask what the hell that's supposed to mean. Find out what you can, and then give me a full report in two hours. In the meantime, I'll do my best to reassure the President and the Joint Chiefs that we're on top of the situation."

Camilla elegantly flopped down into the chair in the back of the van, and began going over all of the sensor and video data coming in.

It was a good hour before she came back out.

* * *

"So how are Rodriguez and...what was the name, Officer Grabowski? How are they doing?" Camilla asked as soon as she emerged from the van.

"Okay for the most part, still feeling a little dizzy and sick, but it's going away. Alanna's a pro so she's mentally recovering a lot quicker.I think we've managed to convince the other guy that there was a flashbang that went off. I implied it might have been his stupid ass breaching the perimeter that set it off, and I think he's happy enough to forget whatever it is he thinks he saw. No trouble getting him to sign an NDA." Wright reported.

Camilla nodded, "We'll have to keep an eye on him for a while, but that's the FBI's problem now. Given that the effect could have potentially spread out to the entire city, and was still strong enough, despite containment, to show up on several key government orbital monitoring networks, we got off especially light."

"Alright. Fair enough. So really, what the hell _did_ happen? We've been staring at the video feeds for the past hour, and it just looks like a big ball of multicolored haze buzzing like a hornet's nest down in that basement."

Camilla sighed softly. "Based on what I've been able to discern from the data - and let me point out that we are charting some incredible new ground here - the description I could give the phenomenon is a - a multiversal space-time discontinuity. We know for a fact, or close enough to it, that a massive, multi-megaton blast happened in this spot. Apparently it doesn't matter that we prevented it, not entirely; an atomic explosion of that magnitude is still going to affect the quantum fabric of reality beyond the normal boundaries of linear time and causality; there's a reason why Hiroshima is the site of Incident Three. So take an area of four dimensional space that has already been damaged, for lack of a better word, and expose it to someone like Max..."

"Wait, are you saying that Max did this?" Wright jumped in, frowning deeply.

"What? No! I'm saying that if she was down there, and rewound for some reason, perhaps as a way to try and stop whatever was happening, or to buy herself more time, the combination of her manipulating time in a heavily damaged portion of the space-time continuum could cause a breakdown in...ugh. You know, why don't I just stop right there. I need to go down into that basement."

Wright blinked. "Seriously? Why? You saw what happened to Rodriguez. Hell, you obviously felt it too. Why do you want to go _back?_ "

Camilla explained, "Because what I can discern remotely through sensors is achingly limited at this point. And also because I suspect I'm one of the few people who _can_ do this. The containment zone is rife with quantum field fluctuations, with the normal laws of time and space now completely bent. The human mind has trouble processing that sort of thing, in the same way that Max bringing someone through time has a deleterious effect. "

"Oh, I get it. But since you've always been a little immune to all that shit, you're going to give it a shot?" Wright asked.

Nodding, she replied. "Precisely. I'm about to fit myself with a standard wearable computer package, and we'll see what we can see. But something tells me what what's down there needs to be witnessed by actual eyes. Sensors and monitors aren't going to cut it."

* * *

Roughly ten minutes later, Camilla hesitantly stepped past the invisible wall of stability the ring of devices provided, offering up a running commentary to the others who were safely ensconced and monitoring her vitals and audio-visual feed from the vans.

"Alright...I'm in. Definite sense of something strange. Like an internal compass going haywire. Curious, almost constant sense of deja vu. Like I've done and said everything a million times before, and can't remember when." Camilla slowly walked forward, making her way carefully down the stairs of the abandoned building.

"Huh. Other than a strange visual shimmer, nothing in the area seems to have changed all that much. Really, looking around at the building, I'm struck with the notion that it's stable as a rock within the context of space and time, and the air and everything else around it is washing up against it, like the sea against a pier."

"Uh...hey bosslady. It's Jenkowitz, I just arrived. Ummm..let me see here. Most of your vitals are within tolerance...barely, but your EEG reading is crazy! The monitors are insisting you're having an epileptic seizure right now."

"I probably am." Camilla noted dryly. "But with my superior cognition, I'm rather good at ignoring that sort of inconvenience."

Pressing ahead, Camilla made her way forward, into the dimly lit basement.

"Just ahead, there's that great, huge mass of colored light and noise. I felt that one, in my stomach now. Sort of a...I'm not sure, but...oh my gosh! I think gravity's been affected. Yes, the same sort of free-fall sensation in my stomach as when we did those exercises on the simulator plane." Pushing experimentally with the toes of her feet, Camilla started to steadily float forward.

The area of light grew, until it filled her vision. It was almost impossible for her to tell where the boundary lay, between the 'core anomaly' and the affected periphery around it, the event horizon as it were. The point of transition between the two was overly long. A good minute passed where Camilla knew she should only be traveling five or ten feet...

...and then suddenly was in the basement.

It took her a supreme effort of will to keep from immediately passing out from the strain. She could barely discern Jenkowitz shouting with concern into her earpiece, insisting that she pull back.

 _Come this far now. Let's...let's see what we've got._

There were a million voices, speaking, crying, laughing, a supremely dissonant cacophony. A thousand million billion overlapping images of different people and things washing over her; Camilla found herself drowning in an infinite sea of ghosts.

 _Need...need to focus on just a few, need...focus!_

It took her a minute...or was it a millenia? A eternity and nothing at all, but eventually, a time came where she was able to begin discerning a small portion of what was occurring, filtering out the rest.

She tried to speak, rasping against the feeling of the wind constantly being knocked out of her. "It's...it's Max! I think? I can see it now. It's the same moment in time, the last minute...or two? Being looped over and over again. But it's not just one moment in time in our universe...it's...it's all of them!"

There were female Maxes. Male ones. African and Japanese Maxes. Short ones, tall ones. Ones made of metal, and flesh, and wood. One that looked like an impossible construct of crystal triangles that disappeared as soon as she took note of it's existence. Sometimes Max had her black haircut into a severe fauxhawk, other times he was rippling, muscular, his long red hair bound up in a ponytail.

Max spoke Chinese, English, Icelandic. Or Esperanto. Or sometimes she chirped or clicked like a bird or dolphin. She was interacting with a smaller child, curled up on the floor. A boy, no wait, a girl. Both? Or was it a dog. A cat? A sentient hue of the color green?

 _God damnit, that one just disappeared too! Why are some of these things popping out of existence the moment I get a good look at them? Especially the most fascinating and unusual ones!_

"Davies! Davies are you there?" Jenkowitz shouted in her ear, from impossibly far away. "Don't know if it's related, but the CFI rating is starting to lower. Like...the moment you stepped into center of it all, it started to go down."

Camilla was beginning to understand what was happening. All of the multiversal possibilities of a particular scene were playing out in one confined moment of space and time; introducing a human witness into the act was finally causing the quantum wavefront to collapse. Like Schrodinger's classic thought experiment, Every possible alternate Max, from every possible outcome of this particular situation existed at once, albeit as virtual particles, until the the box was 'opened'. Now that this had come to pass, the chaos was beginning to resolve itself into order, however slowly.

 _The most unlikely alternatives are the first to be removed from the equation. Not that this solves the mystery of why reality is behaving in this fashion at all, but then again...why did whales beach themselves and birds fall dead out of the sky when Max Emerged? Why any of it?_

Regardless, there were a few basic constants that Camilla could discern: There was always a Max, there was always a child, it was always the last few moments of a tense situation playing itself out, over and over again in a loop. Beyond that, there was too much going on, overwhelming even her incredibly enhanced brain.

 _But it's just a matter of time now. In a matter of days, possibly even hours if the decay is exponential, we'll be left with the last of the most likely outcomes._

Already, she could sense a decrease in the mental pressure, like a maddening hum just above the edge of hearing that was dying out. Another minute later, and she could no longer discern any Max's that were completely alien; while not all of them were human, there weren't any amphibian or reptile versions of her mucking about now.

Honestly, she could just stare for hours, at the patterns, the weft and weave of reality, the...

Blinking, and clearing her head, Camilla spoke in a firm tone, more for herself than anyone else listening in. "I'm...coming back now."

It wasn't much easier to depart than it had been to walk in.

* * *

Later that night, Camilla headed to an apartment that she kept in the Turtle Bay neighborhood of Manhattan. Part living quarters, part workshop, part safehouse, she primarily utilized it for trips into the city when she needed to go with Martinet to address the various high secrecy councils within the United Nations, who kept something approximating a watchful eye on Specials activity. At present she was in her living room, using the video conferencing terminal built into the wall to deliver her report to Martinet.

"Here's my current theory: We do know that based on our readings, there was a massive nuclear explosion in our original timeline. We should assume that Max went back in time twenty-four hours, per our established protocols. During that twenty-four hour period, or possibly over the course of several recursive periods as information was gained and additional iterations were required in order to fully come up with a solution, we, for reasons unknown, determined that we needed to send Max to New York City to deal with the problem. There is a younger child in the room with her, who appears be in agony. The most likely explanation is that they were in the process of Emerging."

"And something went wrong? Did we create a causality loop? Trigger the thing we were trying to prevent?" Martinet asked, his face set in a scowl as he listened.

"Possibly, but it's hard to determine. Max seems at least partially immune to the laws of causality; it may be that the explosion was always going to happen, but Max preventing it, however she did it, created complications. We still can't isolate out the most likely scenario from all of the potentialities currently playing out in a roughly two minute loop. Some of them are clearly impossible. For instance, I distinctly remember one where Max was a humanoid spider, wrapping up and eating whomever this small child was..."

Martinet went pale at the notion.

"But now that more and more of the 'soup' is evaporating, we're starting to detect radio transmissions as part of the phenomenon, so it's likely she was in communication with someone at the time. Us, I would assume. Beyond that...well, I hate to say it, but I don't think we're going to effectively discern what's actually happened for...oh...given the rate of decay we're continuing to witness...I'd give it another twenty four hours?"

Martinet leaned back, steepling his fingers. He was clearly unhappy with what he was hearing.

"So let me get this straight: we have evidence of a nuclear explosion, one that we somehow managed to prevent, but that few people outside of our own organization will truly understand, let alone believe, Our most valuable asset is now completely unaccounted for, and apparently without any sort of tracker on her person. We're assuming Storyteller Protocol was invoked, yet a quick check of all the Edit Order tokens show them unused and accounted for."

Camilla blinked a few times, clearly not anticipating the turn that this conversation was saying.

"It's not outside the realm of possibility that Max was initially given one, traveled back, and then had to travel back again without it on her person. If she's not physically carrying it, its location would be reset, along with any other object in the timeline as it's being rewound..."

"This is an absolute mess, Camilla! A nightmare. We have an agent unaccounted for, possibly gone AWOL..."

Speaking out, her voice rising just slightly in pitch, she responded, "With all due respect, Director, we simply don't know that to be true! For all we know, Max laid down her life in order to save us all. We should have our answers soon enough, and by then, we can react accordingly." She paused, narrowing her eyes a touch. "In full possession of the facts."

A long, icy silence descended between the two of them. Martinet paused to remove his glasses, "I believe I'm within my rights to have an audit team called in. As part of a formal investigation as to whether some sort of negligence or incompetence was involved. As of now, the most powerful Special on this planet completely unaccounted for and out of our control."

 _So. It's come to this, has it? You've been looking for an opening to push me out for a long time now, Paul. And now you think you've finally found it._

Camilla took a few additional seconds to compose her thoughts, before responding, "I see. And as the head of Field Operations, I imagine you're of the opinion that I have more than a few things to answer for? Hmmm? Keep in mind that as Director, you may play a surprisingly large role in this situation as well. Whatever it is. Are you absolutely certainly don't want to wait until tomorrow?"

 _...before going off half-cocked, you great stupid git._

"Do you know something, Camilla?" he asked pointedly.

"No, sir. No more than I've already told you. Merely pointing out that given what we've seen today, anything is indeed possible."

The silent tension returned. It was a good five seconds before Martinet said, "I'll expect you back at Zion by Wednesday morning at the latest, and that you'll fully comply with the investigation."

The link was cut before Camilla could respond.

She sat there for a short while, as she assessed what just happened.

 _Been a good three weeks now since that vicious row we had. When I found out he was working behind my back to try and get the Wayden Amendment restored. Things have been strained - even for us - ever since. But this is desperate, even for him. On the other hand, he may finally see this as an opening, the likes of which he's not bound to get again anytime soon._

Of course, he might not like what he'd find, once the investigation began. Camilla knew, or at least strongly suspected more than she let on in the briefing. She'd managed to have the data stream fed over to her personal computer systems here in the apartment. Between some custom coded algorithms and her own mental aptitude, she eventually came to some rather intriguing - as well as disturbing - conclusions. The 'multiple-potentiality event' would resolve with enough clarity that by tomorrow, Jenkowitz and the rest of the science team would be able to piece together what she thought she'd already discovered.

Camilla still had no idea how Max made it to New York - other than she was sent with a team - or where she went afterwards.

 _But I now know at least some of what happened during those two minutes. You poor girl. The state you must be in._

Rising up, and walking into the hidden operations chamber in her apartment, she pressed a hand against a wall panel, sensors reading her palm. Once the safe unlocked and opened, she retrieved a single item: a smartphone in a hard, black metal shell.

She pressed a button and waited. It was a good minute or three before someone finally answered.

"Mushi mushi?" a feminine voice on the other side answered.

"Shimiko, it's me." Camilla said, speaking expertly in Japanese

"Ah. Davies-san. You've called me on this line. You are speaking Japanese. Truly something drastic has happened. Anything to do with events in New York City, perhaps?"

Camilla sighed, "I'll get right to the point, because we have little time: the White Knight has fallen off the board."

"I see" Shimiko replied. "Is she dead, or...?"

Continuing, Camilla explained, "I honestly don't know. I suspect not, but she's actually managed to somehow slip out of her tracking band. And it would be difficult enough to locate her with the PAN-Opticon, but now we're effectively blind thanks to this new Incident. Look, I'm sending you a data packet, with a brief summary of the situation, my findings thus far, along with some additional raw data that I need for you to analyze. Outside of the normal channels; we're in a tenuous situation at present."

"Oh really? Do elaborate."

"The Black King is finally forcing my hand. He's trying to use the situation with the missing piece to remove me completely from the field of play. And if for some reason he doesn't succeed, it's just a matter of time before he tries again; he's clearly grown desperate." Camilla paused, before she finished, "It's time to play the Alexandria Gambit, I fear."

There was a short pause, before the other woman spoke. "Speaking of desperation moves. Cammie-chan...please don't do anything rash."

Camilla laughed lightly, and murmured, "The hour for caution is quickly passing. I'll try to contact you one more time before...well...before. In the meantime..."

"Yes...of course." Shimiko quickly answered. "I'll do what I can. If she's alive and out there somewhere, clearly this is the opportunity we've been waiting for. We'll need to work quickly; if any of the other factions get wind of this, things will becoming increasingly complicated."

Camilla winced at the thought. "Putting it mildly there, although there's only one or two worth worrying about at this point. I...need to go. I have to consider my options. Start lining my pieces up. Setting my affairs in order."

A few seconds of silence passed between them, prompting Camilla to ask, in English this time.

"Are you there?"

"Yes", Shimiko responded, in a much more faraway voice, also in English. "Good luck."

"Well, fortune favors the bold, I suppose." She took a deep breath, and then let out a sigh. "And to you, as well."

With that, she quickly hung up.

Making her way back into the living room, Camilla stared out through the window, admiring the New York skyline at night, sparkling like a necklace of diamonds.

She clasped her hands behind her back and mused to herself. "Would have liked to have made it to retirement the long way around. But...let's see what this week brings, shall we?"

* * *

 _ **A/N:**_ Whew! Hey there Swanketteers...it's Black Swan Lyta and Corentin Saturday Variety Story Time! :-)

I have to say, this was, by far, the hardest chapter to write. I literally felt like I was dragging it out kicking and screaming from my brain. I had so much trouble doing this that I wrote 1500 words, then skipped to chapter 17, 18, 19, and half of 20. Then wrote a one shot, then wrote 8 chapters of Grande Dame, until I had no choice left but to get back to this. It probably has something to do with the fact that neither Max nor Chloe are present. Also? Cory really helped a lot with this chapter...when I first wrote it, I was absolutely convinced it was crap. On further readthroughs, it's not nearly so bad.

But no worries, we'll get a ton of Max next week, along with more answers as to what happened in New York City...the second, or is it third? time around ;-)

On a semi-related note, I'm afraid it's going to be time for another hiatus after next week; work has just started kicking my ass soooooo hard, and I need time to catch up. Not all the remaining chapters are fully finished. I suspect this is also going to be the way things go for the rest of the story. That is, we get through a "day" and then pause with a short break before the next day begins. Sorry about that. :-(

Anyhow, have a great rest of the weekend!


	17. Echoes And Refractions

**Monday, October 7th, 2013. 2:09 AM EDT.**

 **Manhattan, New York City.**

Max panicked at the realization that she couldn't see. After a few seconds it passed as her eyes adjusted to the darkness.

She was...Somewhere Else. That was all she could immediately discern. Her back was up against a hard, rough brick wall, hedged in by two others to the left and right. The smell...

 _Ugh! Oh gross! This is just...fucking horrific!_

As she made out more details, it became increasingly obvious she was in some sort of alleyway. The air was chilly, but no more than what she would expect from Seattle this time of year, so she was glad for having the coat. She was in a city; the sounds of traffic, people, were all around her. But...

 _Where the hell am I?_

The last thing Max remembered was rewinding back from Monday afternoon, ready to take herself back a full twenty-four hours. She'd then run to find Davies and give her the Edit Order. Everyone would get to work trying to prevent New York City from being destroyed in a nuclear fireball.

That was when she glanced down at her lifeclock.

 _Eastern Daylight Time? What the hell? Why would I be getting that, unless..._

 _...oh shit._

She suspected the answer immediately, ran out towards the opening of the alley, doing her best at ignoring the occasional scurrying rat jumping back into the garbage piles as she worked her way to street level.

Though she'd never before been to New York City, it didn't take more than a few seconds observation for Max to realize that was exactly where she'd ended up. Near the corner of Orchard and Canal, according to the street signs.

The abundance of foreign characters on the signs clued her in to exactly where.

 _Holy shit! I'm...I'm in Chinatown!_

Davies and Martinet planned for pretty much every contingency...except this one. That said, she wasn't a babe in the woods. She was trained to deal with urban jungles just as well as actual ones. But damn if this wasn't something that initially knocked her for a loop.

The first thing she needed to figure out was not only how did she suddenly jump several thousand miles to the east, but why she only managed to rewind back thirteen hours.

 _Maybe I can just continue om, and then get in touch with HQ? Or maybe it'll pull me back to Seattle? Hey! What if I just learned how to teleport? Neat!_

She tried to stop the excited beating of her heart as she contemplated the ramifications of this new development. Maybe she could jump back, and hide her new ability. And when the time was right, she'd get the hell out of this whole Damocles Initiative nightmare once and for all!

 _Okay...um...Seattle. Think of that. And think of being back in base?_

She rewound back the five or six minutes that passed since she came to her senses, but found she could go no further. There was a slow, gradual pushback, like she was trying to swim against an ocean current. Worse yet, she was still in the same physical place she started. So if there were new powers in her repertoire, she'd yet figure out how to reliably draw upon them.

 _Maybe I need to rest a little?_

She spent almost half an hour walking around, reconnoitering the local neighborhood. For the middle of the night, New York City was amazing busy, especially with drunk tourists making their way out of the bars, and bright lights that lit up the busier intersections.

 _Geezus, this city looks huge! And Manhattan is hardly the whole thing!_

She tried again, hoping that perhaps rewinding back from a further time period would - how best to describe it? - give her a bit of extra momentum to smash through whatever barrier she was up against.

But it was no use. Again, she can to a gradual halt. For whatever reason, Reality had decided that Max Caulfield would simply not pass backwards any earlier than 2:09 AM.

 _Okay. Fucking shit._

Max found she now had a decision to make; one that would set the course for the rest of her entire life.

 _God this is...this is crazy. I'm here, actually here, in New York City. As far as I know, I don't have a tracker on. I could just...walk away. Run. Escape. I'd have to keep running, but at least I'd be my own woman, for the first time in...in my entire life._

Max gave a pained smile as she continued.

 _Yeah, and then what do you do? How do you make a life for yourself? More importantly, how do you just walk away from_ this _mission? Right here and now. That's not even on the table, not up for consideration; freedom at last...and all it costs is a few million innocent lives._

It wasn't a decision she needed more than a second to make. But that didn't mean it didn't hurt like hell all the same.

 _Fine. Fine! Shit! Fuck!_

 _I guess it's time to get in touch with Cammie and figure out what the hell's going on. I mean, damn, what a disaster! Less than eleven hours to try and prevent whatever the hell is going to happen._

Max did her absolute best to not dwell on the fact that she was now dangerously in the thick of the situation; if she couldn't figure out how to stop this disaster, and if for whatever reason was unable to reliably rewind back even the eleven hours she now had left, not only would she be dead, but there would be no way to save the several million other innocent victims also slated to perish.

 _Yeah, so I'll just call up Cammie on my..._

 _...uh..._

 _...where's my damn smarpho - awww fuck!_

She realized, all too late, she'd left the device in her locker when she was changing. Didn't seem to be all that important at the time, since she had no reason to believe she would be leaving Zion Control during the entire operation.

 _Alright Max. You have the training. You have the skills. Most important of all, you have your fabulous power. So get shit done!_

Having spotted a local dive three or four blocks down Orchard Street, Max calmly walked up to a particularly drunk looking man in a three piece suit, futilely attempting to work his iPhone while standing on the street corner. Max gave him a steely, appraising gaze.

Smiling lopsidedly, the businessman slurred, "Hey baby, how about you and I..."

Before he could continue, she slugged him hard in the jaw, grabbing the scruff of his collar before he could fall backwards, and then wrenched the phone out of the considerably weakened grip of his hand.

Davies and Reese would have probably winced at how totally unsubtle her technique was, but Max wasn't in a mood for it; given her powers, it's not like she had to be super-discreet all the time.

She rapidly dashed off before anyone else could react, turning the corner of the street, and rewound back all the way to 2:09 AM.

 _Like taking candy from a baby! Woof woof woof!_

She looked down at the phone, and started to tap away at the dial pad in emergency call mode, inputting a complicated set of codes. As part of her training, she'd been made to remember the activation keys for an NSA sub-system that existed in all of the major phone carrier networks; it would mark the phone as "commandeered in field for black ops work.", ensuring that not only would it now operate as a virtual ghost in the system, none of the calls it made could be traced via standard corporate or law enforcement channels. It also flashed up the locking PIN, so Max could get fully in.

 _Sucks you lost your phone, dude, but national security takes priority! Just be happy I'm one of the good...ish...guys._

Making her way into another nearby alley, Max squatted down next to a large dumpster, and did her best to ignore the no doubt sixty jillion rats that were probably hanging out all around her. Another complicated set of codes were typed in, allowing her to access Camilla's work cell, a similarly 'ghosted' phone.

A few seconds after it rang, she heard Davies' voice intone, "Are you there?"

It was her standard answer for the line, since only agents under her command should be calling it. Max could hear the tension and expectation in her voice; clearly she wanted to know if she was correct in figuring out who was now calling her, but there was protocol that absolutely had to be followed in these circumstances.

"This is Flashback, authentication code Alpha Zulu Four Two Zero Delta Nine Tango Hotel Charlie."

A slight pause. Davies responded back. "Authentication code verified, counter code Aki Zeta Fawks Saxpence Theobromine." Another pause, and then, "Max! What the bloody hell is going on?! Are you okay? Alanna and I were just about to run out the door to check in with HQ when you called."

"Yeah, I'm...I'm fine. It's long and it's complicated, and we don't have a lot of time: I've been sent back into the past on a Storyteller Protocol mission, but there's been some major complications. First, I'm in fucking New York City for some reason instead of Zion Control. Second, something's keeping me from rewinding back any earlier than 11:09 PM, your local time. Now this is the really important part: New York City is going to be destroyed by a fifty megaton nuclear blast in less than twelve hours. I have an Edit Order token full of P-O data for you, but I need to get it transmitted, somehow. Any ideas?"

To her credit, Davies did not miss a beat; Max could imagine her commanding officer was brimming with a million questions and concerns, but Cammie was a professional, immediately focusing on the problem at hand.

"Alright, listen closely." Davies began, her voice crisp and confident. "There's an apartment complex in the Turtle Bay neighborhood, I'll give you the address in a moment. It mostly functions as a personal safe house. You'll be able to get in, and access any additional equipment you might need. There's a computer system with a secure high speed fiber line tied straight into the DHS node on MilNet. Just plug the token in, and the firmware will handle the rest. It's in a rather nice complex tower, the Halcyon Arms.I'll phone the concierge ahead, tell him that you're my niece Kathryn, and that he should let you in."

Max nodded, "Got it. Anything else?"

"Yes. Once you're inside, go into the laundry room. There's what appears to be a small water valve shutoff. Turn the valve three times around, and a number pad will pop up. Input the first ten digits of pi, that will open up the hidden safe room."

Max groused. "Geezus, and here I thought that was useless when you made me commit it to memory!"

"Nothing I've ever taught you was ever useless. Now, as you say, time is wasting, so get that information to us as soon as possible. Now that I know where you are, and what our situation is, Rodriguez and I will head for McChord AFB, and get the mobile command plane up in the sky ASAP. With a little luck, we might be able to get to your location with some time to spare. Give you a helping hand."

Max blinked. "Wait, isn't that kind of dangerous? What if we can't figure it out in time? No reason you should die with me!"

"Max, that's noble of you, but do you have so little confidence in yourself? Rewinding back eight hours is much easier on you than going back a full day, yes? You can keep going back, bringing back additional information as required, until we have a solution."

"Oh...I...hah, I can't believe you had to be the one to point that out to me." Max shook her head, self-effacingly. "Okay, enough talk, right? You should have the data transferred over in ten minutes or fifteen minutes. Maybe less."

"So quick? Where are y- oh! Right, yes, clever girl!" Davies said.

"Okay, talk later." Max answered, and then hung up.

It took her a little while to hail a taxi, but even at this late hour, there were a few prowling around the bars, looking for an easy fare. Max hopped in, gave the driver the address, and finally settled in. Though it was the middle of the night, the trip still took a good ten minutes; apparently Turtle Bay was halfway across Manhattan.

The ride gave Max time to ponder her situation. She still wanted to somehow have her cake and eat it, too; save New York, and escape. Maybe they'd figure it out in time; she'd save the city, and then somehow...would slip out. Break away. After some time, she'd call in, offer to help out, but only in really emergency cases, and only on her terms. Like...

 _...like some sort of freelancer or something. Yeah. A lone-wolf superheroine. Just like I always wanted._

"Ugh." she whispered to herself. "I'd take completely normal over anything else. Besides, I need to meet up with them, coordinate, if we're going to save the city. And there goes my chance to escape"

To be so close to freedom, and yet so far away. It was maddening!

 _The mission has to come first. The lives of seven million people are way more important than yours, Max. Just accept it. Besides, they're probably waiting for you to try and escape, your first time out. Now's a good chance to lower their guard. Think they can trust you, just a little bit more._

Still...if only she could figure out how she ended up in New York City to begin with!

"Okee, we here. Das...uh...eight, fitty." the Indian cab driver called out.

Max glanced down at her lifeclock, got a 'feel' for the timestream in her head. Then immediately dashed out of the cab. Before the driver could protest, she rewound, back to around thirty seconds before she hired the cab in the first place.

Nice and neat. No trace she ever took the cab, no evidence of her passing. And she zipped up four miles worth of the city in under a subjective minute.

 _Holy shit, I am scary good at my job sometimes!_

Max strode her way into the Halcyon Arms, greeting the night concierge with a wide smile. She threw on her best British accent, one of the small repertoire she had been trained to emulate.

"Good evening. I'm here for my Auntie's place. Camilla Davies? She'd said she rung ahead."

"Oh. Yes, Miss...ah?" the older man inquired.

She tilted her head a touch, keeping her smile wide and even. "Kathryn Davies. A pleasure to make your acquaintance, sir."

Appropriately set at ease, the concierge provided her with a fresh keycard, and directed her to apartment 314.

 _Christ, Cammie, telegraphing it just a bit, aren't you?_

Max was tempted to rewind again, regain the last ten minutes she spent checking in and making her way into the apartment, but decided not to chance causing any issues by wiping out her meeting with the concierge. Instead, she stepped in, taking just a few seconds to take in the decor before she hunted down the laundry room.

It was small, at least half the size of the loft she shared with Rodriguez, but...

 _...holy shit! I knew Cammie had money, but this place just screams class._

Tastefully appointed with various objets d'art, it was decorated in shades of blue and silver, giving it a calm, but simultaneously cold feel to it.

 _A little bit like you, huh bosslady?_

And like the loft in Seattle, it had an incredible view of the city from the living room.

Another minute or two, and Max managed to make her way into the safe room, a cramped vault of a chamber, replete with supply cabinets and an impressive state-of-the-art computer terminal, built to current DI specs. Hoping that it would recognize her appropriately, Max placed her palm down on the biometric reader, letting out the breath she was holding when a soft, synthesized female voice chimed, "Agent Salinger, Artemis M. Logging you on..."

 _Wow, must be a remote terminal hooked straight up to the master mainframe back in Seattle._

Wasting no more time, she removed the token from her pocket, and plugged it into one of the USB ports. The computer immediately recognized the device, and began to execute an automated download of the information. With no small amount of relief flooding her body, she collapsed into a chair, and picked up the hardwired phone, dialing Davies back.

"Okay, it's done. Sorry that took longer than I thought, but I had to be careful about not crossing over my own timeline too much. I don't want to pop out of this apartment and freak out the concierge who suddenly has no memory of me checking in."

"Good thought." Davies replied. "We'll be wheels up in under an hour. I've called Jenkowitz in to start analyzing the data; I'll add my two cents once we're in the air."

"Right. So...uh...what should I do while you guys are flying over?" Max said.

"At the moment? Tell me everything you know about this situation. Any little detail could be vitally important."

Max spent the new few minutes going over what little she could remember: the size of the explosion, the extent of the damage. The fact that her rewind seemed to 'short out' as she crossed the time of the blast. And most importantly, that some sort of Emergence was detected shortly before the explosion.

"Bloody hell!" Davies replied. "That _would_ explain an awful lot. Okay. The good news is that I think I have the beginnings of a plan. The fact that you're already in New York City ahead of us could be an absolute godsend. I'll need to double check a few things, and code a few algorithms, but...well, there'll be time enough to explain it to you in a few hours. For now, I highly suggest that you look around, equip yourself with whatever useful toys you find in my workshop, and get some rest; you're going to need it."

"Yeah. Sounds good. And uh...um...any idea how I got teleported to New York City, or whatever the hell?" Max asked.

 _It's tipping my hand bigtime, but if she can tell me something useful..._

"Only base conjecture. One possibility is that you've somehow unlocked a new level of power in the face of the tremendous stress of the situation; highly unlikely, given how long you've had your abilities. There's never been a recorded case of another Special discovering new and completely different powers years after their flare window passed."

"Or?" Max added?

"Or" Davies began. "And this is probably closer to what happened: the blast in New York was so catastrophic that it deeply affected the quantum fabric of reality itself. It somehow interacted with your powers, even from thousands of miles away, and sucked you towards the anomaly, like a gravity well; I have to imagine that you exist out of phase with the rest of the world during the actual act of rewinding itself, where the laws of physics don't hold as firm. Furthermore, we've known for some time now that atomic detonations makes a proper mess of the local space/time, and that the effect scales up exponentially based on the strength of the explosion."

"Still doesn't explain why I can't go past 2:09 AM. What's so special about that time?"

"Absolutely no bloody idea." Davies said. "Once we save the city, perhaps we'll have time to gather some more answers. One way or the other, this is going on the Incident catalogue, that's for sure."

"Huh. Funny, you said the same thing in the previous timeline. Anyhow, you're right, I should get some sleep. Buzz me when you're close, okay?"

"I'll be in touch in three to five hours, tops. Davies out."

Max sighed, as she replaced the phone handset on the cradle.

 _All alone, in the city that never sleeps. Damn shame, nothing to do at this hour. Well...I could walk around but...eh. Davies is right. I should rest. But...man, I'm so hungry!_

Ten minutes later, she was back on the street. On a whim, she stopped into a nearby Bank of America ATM, and pulled out her daily limit of seven hundred fifty dollars. Not that she figured she'd need that much money, but more because she was absolutely grooving on being rich.

 _R-I-C-H! B-I-T-C-H! Oh yeah! Thats me! Oh yeah!_

She coughed, realizing that the video security camera was watching her twerk, blushed and immediately stopped.

She had to settle for some donut shop she'd never heard of before, but it was better that than dipping into the supply of emergency nutrient packs she'd stuffed into her pockets back at base.

 _Dunkin' Donuts? Must be some weird regional chain. Huh. Damnit, I was hoping for a Blue Star or a Voodoo. I'd even settle for a Krispy Kreme!_

One donut and a low-fat milk later, she paused at the door to the shop, glancing over in a midtown direction, wistfully.

 _Too bad I don't have time to check it out. I'm right by 42nd Street. That place is stupid famous. But I should really get back and go...waitaminute!_

Without further debate, she walked on towards central Manhattan.

 _I can rewind time. Duh. I have all the time I need. Kinda..._

Granted, she was burning off a few extra hours from the end of her life, but...but she deserved it. When the hell was she ever going to get a chance to go exploring like this. Alone and free and unobserved?

 _Probably never._

But Times Square was worth the trip. Even in the middle of the night, it was alive and pulsing with light and activity. Giant video displays hung from towering spires, burning back the night with an intensity to rival the sun itself. Splashes of gold, purple, blue and crimson pooled like liquid on all the shiny surfaces. Everything screamed opportunity, and excitement and adventure. Buy buy buy, spend spend spend. Live!

Max found it both sacred and profane, as she hugged herself tight, wide-eyed in wonder and terror.

 _And it's all gonna get wiped out in a few hours. Unless I can...unless we can figure out how to stop it._

Reluctantly tearing herself away from the rapture of simply existing in the moment, in the dead of night in New York City, she trudged back to Davies' apartment. She was tempted to rewind back the last hour and a half - all the more time to rest up - but couldn't bring herself to do so.

 _I want it to mean sometime. I want to be able to say 'I was there'. And just be more than a memory._

She began to poke through the various bins of gear, picking out some of the best gadgets that Cammie recently developed; Max was relatively familiar with most of them already, having been briefed on the R&D specs, or actually beta tested some of the proof of concepts over the past few years. She snagged a special issue satellite 'spoofer phone', not that she needed it, but why not? It was able to fake it's location; Davies liked to boast that even _she_ couldn't figure out where it was coming from without at least two or three calls being placed from it.

The wearable glasses-computer, already standard issue for most agents, was essentially a pair of surprisingly mundane looking sunglasses with a small wireless hip processor. It not only possessed GPS and navigation functions, but could do on-the-fly language translation and provide targeting assistance. It also interfaced with a little communicator earpiece that would allow her to remain in constant contact with other DI personnel once the mission was fully underway.

Reaching over for a small, metal box, Max tilted her head curiously. "Hello...what do we have here?"

Opening the case, it took her a moment to recognize the smooth, sleek lines of the high-tech pistol. "Oh! No way, she actually built it!"

A couple of years ago, Davies shared specs with her for a law-enforcement gun which she dubbed "The Splasher". The ammunition consisted of an aqueous base solution of dimethyl sulfoxide held in a thin gel film, which was mixed on the fly inside the gun itself with various knockout agents, or in extreme cases, toxins. The DMSO essentially forces open the molecular gates of the skin, allowing whatever it was mixed with to enter the bloodstream; effectively, it worked as a transdermal drug delivery system. The pellets themselves were fired out via compressed air, creating a surprisingly quiet and effective, if short range, pacification weapon. There were still a few kinks to work out though; literal splash damage that might potentially affect nearby friendlies.

 _Wow...looks like a fully working prototype, too. Better snag it; might come in handy, and she'd probably appreciate the field testing._

It was a definite perk of the job, getting to play with all the cool tech toys.

 _Price of admission is still too fucking high._

With her equipment loadout taken care of, and nothing else to do, she curled up on the nearby cot; the idea of napping in Davies' bed seemed a little too weird to her for some reason, and besides, she needed to stay close to the phone.

* * *

She fell asleep quickly, and stayed sleeping longer than she intended; almost a full five hours passed before the insistent, alarming ring of the phone yanked her out of a sound sleep. Max rose and picked up the handset, doing her best to chase away any groggy tone from her voice.

"I'm here." she intoned.

"Max, I've got both good news and bad." Davies replied. "Now that I've had enough time to analyze the data you've provided from the previous timeline, I'm almost positive the disaster event was caused by an Emergence. Better still, I've narrowed the epicenter of the blast."

"Oh yeah? I...think I have an idea whereabouts."

"How do you mean?" Davies asked.

Max answered. "When I teleported-slash-got yanked into New York, I was in an alleyway on Orchard Street, near Canal. A bunch of the writing was in Chinese. If your theory that the blast made this kind of like...temporal black hole or something, then you figure it's gotta be right on that street, yeah? Or at least in Chinatown."

"Good thinking! And possibly, but at the same time, you may have simply entered the event horizon, and the true epicenter is somewhere deeper inside the neighborhood itself."

Max suppressed a yawn. "Shit...Davies, even a neighborhood like that, gotta have what? Hundreds of people in it? Thousands? How the hell are we supposed to find one person in time? Although..." she snapped her fingers. "I got an idea. We get as many of our people as possible, spread them out, and we look for..I don't know. Signs of someone about to...uh..freak out? If we can time it right, I might be able to keep rewinding it back, like we did in Yemen, before it all goes to hell. Figure it out and then act."

There was a long, silent pause.

"Davies?" Max inquired.

"That's the bad news. There's not going to be a 'we' in the equation. A massive storm system mysteriously popped up over the last hour, and it's causing terrible havoc with the air traffic routes. We can fly around it, but by the time we do, it'll be too late."

"...well that's just fucking great..." Max drawled sarcastically.

"I've been tracking several other curious phenomena; sudden shifts in bird migration patterns, anomalous fluctuations in local magnetic fields, et cetera. Nothing that would look all that unusual in the grand scheme of things to the untrained eye. We know better. But Max...you're going to need to finish the mission solo. I'm sorry. But I have absolute confidence in your abilities."

"Shit!" Max swore bitterly. "How?! How the hell can I possibly do this without a support team, Camilla? I mean...we...we can get some guys from DHS over right? And...I can coordinate..."

She knew the reason why that wouldn't work, as soon as the answer popped out of her mouth.

"Max, the true nature of your existence is one of the most classified secrets in the country. And not a knock on you, but we're already having jurisdictional issues with trying to get the local police and FBI to assist us with cordoning off and clearing out Chinatown, and very few of the NYPD are going to see fit to take orders from a young teenage woman, no matter how capable we all personally know you to be." Davies comforted. "But we've caught a lucky break, in that this blast happened in Manhattan."

Max blinked. "I think there's seven million people who would kinda have issues with your definition of 'lucky', bosslady."

"Oh. Quite!" Davies responded, somewhat sheepishly. "The point being: after Tokyo and London, New York City - lower Manhattan especially - has one of the densest sensor meshes in the world. Using the pre-existing sensor grid spread throughout the city, I can code up a program that should allow you to triangulate the location of the target as their abilities begin to emerge; it will be close though, possibly as little as five minutes to spare, but we know that won't be a problem for you. All you need to do is grab one of the wearable computer sets from the safe room, and interface it with a new application module I've been tinkering with. It'll be silver, with the Damocles logo on it; can't miss it. Hook it up to this terminal and I'll be able to complete the remote configuration."

Max quickly located the small box. "Got it. So. Just as simple as that, then? Stake out Chinatown, wait until I get a ping, and then...then..."

 _Oh God, please don't make me kill anyone..._

Davies interjected. "Going on the theory that this is most likely an Active undergoing their Emergence, and they're possibly panicking and losing control, simply knocking them out should shut the worst of the process down. We keep them under, possibly in a medical coma until the flare window is passed, and then rouse them. Admittedly, we're treading new ground here, but there's an Incident from 1977 that this bears some similarities to."

Max fit the earpiece in, cut the call over, and murmured. "I just switched channels over. Are you still there?"

"Reading you loud and clear."

She scrubbed frustratedly at her face. "Geezus. Lot of the unknown we're kinda dealing with, huh?"

"I'm sorry, Max. Sometimes the best you can do in a situation like this is simply mitigate the risks. Keep in touch with us; let me know if you find anything worthwhile, and I'll radio back if our situation changes, or if we acquire new data."

"Right. Uhh...Salinger out."

 _Man, that's going to take time to get used to._

"...Good luck, poppet."

Max bit her bottom lip, and gave a slight smile. This had to be tearing poor Davies up, this whole fucked up situation. But at least there was a plan, now.

A chance.

"Time to get to work."

Once the application module was coded, Max gathered up her belongings, and exited the apartment. It wouldn't be until much, much later that she'd realize the critical mistake she'd made.

The vital piece of equipment left behind.

* * *

Getting to work largely consisted of wandering around Chinatown for several hours. Max would have loved to explore more of the city, but the last thing she needed was to get a ping while she was halfway across town. Not that she couldn't just rewind time and make her way back but...it just felt too terribly irresponsible. She didn't know how many times she might have to rewind, again and again, to get this right, and she needed to conserve her energy.

Still, it was a lovely late morning of window shopping. A dress shop caught her eye as she was passing through, and she paused to admire the cheongsam's hanging in the display..

 _Ha ha! Alanna would totally pull that look off. Davies too. Even me. Yeah...we could be like Charlie's Angels or something. Hmmm...maybe she'll let us hang about for an extra day or two? I mean...fuck! If I pull this off, it's the least they could do for me. A little mini vacation._

She killed time in a few restaurants; first a dim sum house - the name of which she couldn't figure out at all - which was really good, despite it being totally vegetarian, and then the dessert cafe. There, she stuck with one of the safer-looking dishes, some sort of milk tea with weird little black tapioca-like balls in it.

 _Mmm. This is pretty damn tasty, whatever it is._

It was all so exotic, so strange. Not that her experiences were wide and deep to begin with, but New York City seemed like a whole different planet; Chinatown felt like being in a different country, albeit an exceedingly tiny one where people still mostly spoke English, with its cramped, dirty streets, and noisy storefronts. There was such an incredibly different vibe from what she experienced in Seattle.

It took her hours before she finally put her finger on it.

 _The buildings...everything's so...old! I can almost feel the history here, like a weight._

It all served to remind her how terribly sheltered she'd been, the past five years

Davies checked in, every so often, to see if she had any luck. And Max regretfully reported back that nothing had changed. She did her best to keep a calm disposition, but as the minutes and hours wore on ever closer to 1:12 PM, an icy desperation began to claw at the back of her mind.

 _1:00 PM? What the fuck, what the_ fuck!?

And then, blessed relief! The heads up display in her glasses lit up...

 **ANOMALY DETECTED**

It was close. Chinatown for certain, but the streets were crowded, and she knew there was no way she'd make it in time. Fortunately, she didn't have to.

Winding back an hour, she reached up to her earpiece and spoke softly.

"Davies, it's me. What's your current status."

"We've past the storm, but at this point, we've decided to put ourselves into a holding pattern over Pittsburgh. If for some reason, you absolutely need us to try and make it to New York City, just rewind back and let us know. But please tell me you have good news?"

"Yup." Max said, with a rising note of confidence in her voice. "An hour from now, I'm going to get a ping."

"Blood hell, that's cutting it close" Davies said.

"No shit. It looks like it's gonna happen somewhere on Elizabeth Street. So I'm going to head over and stake it out."

"Right then." Davies replied. "Be careful!"

"Yeah. I'll totes step lightly around the walking nuclear apocalypse, thanks. Salinger out."

Max made her way five or six blocks over, and then began to casually stroll up and down Mulberry, waiting. One PM arrived, and once again, her display lit up.

 **ANOMALY DETECTED**

She was close, damn close. It was clearly in one of the older buildings. The closer she walked towards the general direction of the signal, the more she could see that it was underneath her. Probably in one of the basements. She tracked it down to an old, abandoned storefront, looking particularly out of place in the wave of gentrification overtaking the neighborhood. She dashed in, looking conspicuous in the attempt, but not caring.

She made her way down the basement, the dot on her display growing brighter, the pinging more insistent. The fetid smell of mildew and age slammed into her like a wall. She preemptively drew the Splasher gun, then engaged the night vision mode in her glasses.

Her heart pounded, harder and harder still, adrenaline coursing through her veins. She had no idea what to expect, what situation she'd come across, as she made her way into a disused storage room, its tiny, ancient light bulb struggling to provide flickering light. The floor was strewn with moldering oilcloths.

By this point, her own personal sensors were starting to pick up life signs. Heartbeat was racing, body temperature way above normal.

She heard him first, before she saw him. A young Chinese boy, who couldn't have been more than nine or ten, curled up in a ball, whimpering in such horrendous agony, eyes open, wheeling around in a panic.

"Davies." Max whispered into her earpiece. "I found him. Jesus Christ, it's just a kid."

She held her Splasher away from him, then reached out a hand. "Hey...hey it's okay...it's okay. No one's going to hurt you, alright? Uh...shit, do you speak English? Where's the translation mode on this thing?"

The digital clock in her display blinked ominously: 1:10 PM.

He whimpered, crawling away from her, crying out piteously...

" _Mǔqīn_ _!"_ he called out.

" **MOTHER"** automatically flashed up on her display.

" _Hǎo tòng! Hǎo tòng!"_ he screamed, clutching at his head.

" **IT HURTS/IS UNPLEASANT/PAINFUL"**

Max felt her vision swim, grow dark around the edges. Everything was starting to judder and skip, like a bad filmstrip breaking.

 _This...this didn't happen. This isn't...I don't remember this. part..I don't remember..._

Images jumped about, disorienting her. The boy was knocked out, then he was awake. Then he was...

A voice started screaming at her.

Martinet's. All but shrieking.

" _...I swear, if you disobey my direct order, you will never be let out of the base again! Do you understand me? Do you understand?! I will take away what little freedom you've been given!"_

Everything dissolved in a whirling, frightening miasma of sight and sound.

* * *

Max suddenly awoke, her heart pounding painfully in her chest. She was...

...she was in Chloe's bed. Back in her room. Back...

 _...safe. I'm safe. Okay, I'm alright. Everything's fine, everything is..._

She checked her lifeclock, found it was almost six in the morning, on Tuesday.

 _Early. Too damn early._

She turned around, and tried to fall back to sleep, desperately afraid to confront whatever lingering nightmare was still licking at the edges of her mind.

* * *

 _ **A/N:**_ Hey Swanketeers, It's Black Swan Saturday! Lyta noms on turkey legs today, and continues to be thankful for Corentin's awesome edits and all the fantastic readers!

I hope everyone had a nice week, and that all the Americans out there had a filling Turkey Day. :-)

I have some news: This is probably going to be the last Black Swan update for the year. Or second to last at best. I've been so busy with work, and other stuff going on in my life that I am very quickly running out of buffer. I not only need time to complete what half-written drafts I have left, but I need to start writing new chapters, which I haven't been able to do in over a month. Also, the holidays are coming up, and I imagine that both Cory and myself would like just a little time to relax. I'm also hoping to get one last chapter of Grande Dame out before years end, as well.

So with all that in mind, I'm going to take a four to five week hiatus; so we'll be back either no earlier than the day after Christmas, or no later than the day after New Years. Sorry for such a long pause, but I figure this is probably the best place to take it, right before Max wakes up and Tuesday begins in earnest.

Thanks everyone, for all your support thus far! It is always greatly appreciated.


	18. Power

Max slowly roused the next morning, her otherwise deep and contented sleep disrupted by an intense dream near dawn. She couldn't help but feel a nagging sensation, as if some of her suppressed memories were rattling loose. She'd definitely made it to New York City, - although she still couldn't understand how she'd gotten there so quickly - and she had a vague recollection about trying to track someone - or was it something? - down. Beyond that, everything receded into a foreboding haze, leaving her instinctively fearing any possible return to the Damocles Initiative.

 _Damnit, I still can't remember most of it. Wish I took a minute to collect my thoughts right after I had that dream, but when I woke up earlier this morning...was too damn tired to care._

She glanced over to her friend, who was still zonked out; it was only then that Max noticed her hand was clasping Chloe's. She didn't remember falling asleep that way; it must have happened sometime during the night. Not that she minded. Quite the opposite. It brought a smile to her face, and made her blush as well, for some reason she couldn't put her finger on.

But she was up now, her body used to waking up at a specific time in the morning, and on top of that, she seriously needed to pee! Carefully, reluctantly disengaging her fingers from Chloe's, she hobbled off to the bathroom, sat down, and began to consider her next steps as she relieved herself.

 _So what should I do now?_

This was a new thing for her; over the past five years, she'd have days off, but few ways to spend the time. Now, she was essentially mistress of her own destiny; both a legal adult and outside of the stifling grasp of the US Government. While she couldn't go hog wild, she was honestly freer than she'd ever been in her entire life.

 _I should totally leave, though. Make plans, buy some supplies, figure out how to stay one step ahead . Go to the bank, get out as much money as I can, and burn rubber. Just...just get up and go, and run, and keep running, and don't stop._

Still, she couldn't shake the weird feeling that maybe she didn't have to immediately flee Arcadia Bay. Oh, eventually she'd have to, sure. There was no way around it. But instinctively, she couldn't make herself feel the tension, the pressure, the fear of being caught. It was almost like part of her brain knew something it wasn't telling the rest of her.

 _Also? It is so awesome to be back, and hanging with Chloe! There's a ton of stuff we still need to talk about. Do. I mean, as long as I don't go crazy, and I keep my head down, they won't find me for a while. A few days at least. I mean...they know I was too scared to come back to town, so...it makes sense, doesn't it? That it might be a little while before they went to look for me. I mean, after all, I somehow made it from New York City to Arcadia Bay in...uhh...um..._

The longer she thought the problem through, she more she became aware of how strange it all was.

 _Okay, now wait a sec! I_ know _I was in New York City in the middle of the night on Monday because I have an ATM receipt showing it. But then I pop up in Chloe's truck, or so she tells me, around - what was it? - nine or ten in the morning local time, so that's like noon on the East Coast. Commercial flights don't usually take off until five in the morning at the earliest, and it's a seven or eight hour flight from New York to Portland. Drive from the airport to Arcadia bay is almost two hours so...no. No way could I have made a commercial flight in time and then all the driving._

 _Maybe a private jet? Assuming I left at four, and it was top of the line. Something like a Cessna Citation X, which can go almost the speed of sound...thank you spy school, for teaching me these weird things, by the way. And then if it diverted to a private airport..._

"Ugh! Damnit!" she groaned in frustration, tugging at her hair. She was grasping at straws at this point.

But she still couldn't escape the indescribable feeling that she'd been in Arcadia Bay a lot longer than she could remember. An amount of time that should point to the impossible.

Biting down on her lip, Max made up her mind.

 _One more day. I'll stay one more day, and then I'll leave tomorrow. Probably best not to tell Chloe...she'll...she'll wanna talk me out it, and I wouldn't blame her for trying._

She rose up, washed her hands and face, took a swig of mouthwash...

 _...guh! First thing I get is a toothbrush! Mouth feels so gross right now._

...flushed the toilet and then headed back into Chloe's bedroom.

Closing the door gently behind her, she sat back down in front of the laptop, and began to browse around, still checking for any signs about New York. The city and the surrounding metropolis remained stubbornly, delightfully explosion free. After that, she found herself randomly clicking on various sites, news stories, and aimlessly roaming the web. During her captivity at Zion Control, she was only give access to an extremely limited subset of the Internet; now faced with unlimited choice, she found she was completely unsure of what to look up first.

She felt a tapping on her shoulder, glanced up, and saw a sleepy Chloe trying to catch her attention.

"Morning, Che." Max murmured with a smile.

"Hey. Looking for something in particular?"

Max shook her head. "No. Just...I just never had free reign on the Internet like this before. Or, at least for a long time. And now, I can't think of anything good to search for."

Chloe laughed lightly and said, "Alright, just...you're not looking at my browser history, are you?"

"What? No!"

"Good." Chloe said. "I believe you. But...if you did, for some weird reason, don't freak or judge, okay? Because I write sometimes, you know, and I have to look up things, so that I get details right. As a writer."

"Oh christ, Chloe, I don't care about the midget-elephant pornography you're looking up, or whatever it is." Max shook her head again. "Oh! I could look up porn! Naaah. Too easy. Wowser..."

Max paused, staring hard at the screen and then groaned, covering up her face with a hand. "Oh shit, Che. This is so pathetic. Look at me. I have no life, no interests, or like...fucking hobbies. I spent so many years trying to get through this crazy training shit that the government put me through. God." She gave a heavy, wistful sigh. "Where do I even start? How do I take the pieces of my life and put them back together?," She gave a shrug. "Maybe it's for the best I don't think too hard on that. Given that I'm just gonna have to hit the road and keep running, in, uh, in a day...or...two."

 _Damnit! Let it slip already!_

Chloe said nothing in reply to Max's statement about leaving. She instead glanced about her desk and smiled, reaching over to grab an old, white instant camera, which she then held out.

Glancing over with a confused look on her face, Max took it.

"This is my Dad's camera."

"Oh!" Max exclaimed. "I thought it looked familiar. This was the one he used when he took that last picture of us."

Chloe nodded. "Yeah. I remember how much you used to drool over it, and the talks you and he had, about becoming a photographer. Going to Blackwell, studying. I mean, that _was_ your plan, right? Before all this shit happened?

Max held the camera against her chest, bit down on her lip and nodded once. "...I suppose it was. I don't know about _is_. I don't know what I want out of life right now, other than the chance to find the answer to that question. Funny, it's so fucked up, this kind of Stockholm Syndrome I got into. Right up near the end, I was actually happy to be only half a slave instead of a full one, looking forward to this whole plan of being a field agent, with this cover story of owning a gym and being an MMA instructor. Or something."

Chloe flopped onto the edge of her bed. "Hey, don't knock it. MMA instructor sounds like a cool life story!"

Max traced her fingers over the camera, familiarizing herself anew with its smooth, cool surface. "Yeah, but, that was only an extension of my real job. It was only because it's all I knew what to do. I mean, photography didn't even occur to me...but...now."

As if by instinct, she raised the camera up, peering through the viewfinder. Took the time to try and compose the shot, putting Chloe - who was more than happy to smile and lean back in a casual pose on the bed - more to the right of the frame, as opposed to directly in the center of the shot. Pressed down on the button, and was rewarded with the satisfying click and whirr of the camera spitting out a film square.

Shaking it out, she stared in wonder at the picture as it slowly resolved itself from a muddled murk of browns and greys into a vibrant slice of life.

"How'd it feel, Maxima?" Chloe asked.

"G-good. Yeah. Good." Max responded. "Familiar. Like listening to your favorite song for the first time in forever, and suddenly remembering everything good that you forgot about it." Short of finding Chloe, it was the most palpable sense of reconnecting and rediscovering her old life that she'd made thus far.

Chloe shook out her hair for a moment, and glanced to the side, almost shyly, "Um. I think that he'd want you to have it. My Dad I mean. The camera's been sitting on my desk for a long time now. Kinda surprised it still works. But maybe if you hit the road, and run around, you can take pictures of all the places you end up in, right? Find something to do with your life that's...you know, what _you_ want to do." She rose up, and peered at the developed photo, lighting up. "Oh, damn woman! I think you've got an eye for detail or something. Look at that. Seriously, you make me look...I don't know. But it's totally one of the best pictures anyone's ever taken of me. Can , uh, can I have this one?"

It was Max's turn to blush now, all smiles as she bowed her head, regarding the camera in her lap. "S-sure. I just take the picture. You're the awesome subject." She handed it out to her. Then paused as an idea hit her.

"Oh shit! I don't have to worry about the Feds snooping my photos, if I don't take them with a camera phone. Damn...hold on!" She rose up, wrapped an arm around Chloe's waist, and then held the camera out at arm's length.

"Say cheese!" she called out.

Chloe threw up a peace sign, and laughed. "Maxaroni and Che you mean."

The camera clicked again, just in time for Max to dissolve into giggles. "God. I forgot about that one too! Che-Burger and Max the Mad. It's ahh..." she sat back down again, regarding the picture as it faded into view. "Five years is a long time, Chloe. A long damn time. Maybe it's 'cause we're young, but it felt like a lifetime. I just...can't believe it's over, you know? The Zion thing. I don't know what's going to happen, how long and how far I'm going to have to run in the end but..."

She paused, smiling sweetly as she regarded the photo: Taken at a slightly skewed angle, providing energy and a sense of off-kilter craziness to the mood. The two of them looked happy. Honestly, legitimately happy. Certainly, the brightest Max could recall seeing herself; she couldn't speak for Chloe, but given what little she'd seen of her friend's life over the past half-decade, she had to wonder about her as well.

Chloe deftly, delicately snagged the photo and studied it in the light. Gave a crooked smile and said, "I almost want to keep this one, too. Damn."

Max put the camera down. "I better save the film. And I don't know about you, but I'm kind of starving right now."

"Oh yeah. Yeah, totally. Um...I know! Let's head to the Two Whales. I know Joyce is working there today, for sure. You okay with that? I mean, trying to be all super-secret and shit?"

Max shrugged. "Your step-dad saw me, cat's out of the bag there." She rose up and started to head to the closet. "Still, I'll see if there's a hoodie in there that'll fit me, for walking around outside. Oh, and...uh...you mind if I borrow a pair of your underwear? Might be a bit big on me but, I need _something_ at this point. Gotta hit a cheap clothes shop today, anyhow."

"Help yourself. I'm going to take a few minutes and medicate." Chloe reached over, digging into her stash box and pulling out another pre-rolled joint.

"Kinda early to be sparking up, isn't it?" Max smirked.

Chloe shrugged noncommittally. "Like I said, it's medicinal. Shit knows, I've got hella anxiety issues in my life."

Max paused for a minute, getting quickly dressed, as Chloe took a large toke. She walked back over, sat down next to the other girl, and said. "Not saying it to judge...shit. I totally sound like I'm judging, right? Sorry."

"You seemed to like it just fine yesterday afternoon, playa." Chloe laughed.

"Hah. Yeah. I did."

Handing over the joint to her, Chloe said, "C'moooon. Get buzzed up again. Just think of it this way: every hit you take, that's one more giant-sized middle finger you're giving to your former lords and masters, right? Wait, did I say that already? Yesterday? Eh, whatevs. Still true."

Max narrowed her eyes and reminisced. All the assholes, all the dicks and their fucked up behavior. The way they treated her. Wright and Martinet especially, but even Jenkowitz, and some of the security douches and...

She grabbed the joint and took as long a hit as she could stand, held it until she thought she might burst, and coughed it all out, gasping for breath.

"Viva la revolucion! Viva Max!" Chloe called out triumphantly, clapping her hands.

Still coughing up her lungs, Max croaked. "H-holy...shit. I immediately - *coughcoughCOUGH* - regret that." Coughing interspersed with laughter, she wiped her mouth off with the back of her hand.

"You'll regret it a lot less when the shit really kicks in, Maxima." Chloe said, taking another drag for herself, before handing it back.

"No doubt." Max responded, taking a much more judicious draw this time around.

By the time they were done sharing the joint, Max had an extremely pleasant buzz, thrumming from her head to her toes, a sense of lethargic relaxation, and a surprisingly strong dampening of giving a shit about All The Things. She wouldn't say she was wasted, but at the same time, she had absolutely no point of reference or much in the way of experience to judge it again. She wouldn't be much use in a fight at the moment, but that was okay; she was way, waaaaay too mellow to even think about violence. If anything, she had to suppress the urge to grin and giggle, or gape with awe at every little thing that caught her eye.

 _Definitely going to get more experience. Yeah. You know...just for comparison's sake._

As they started to head out the door, Max remarked. "I thought this stuff was supposed to make you paranoid or something?"

They hopped in the truck, and Chloe answered, "Yeah. Kinda. Depends on the strain for one thing. Obviously, this shit is calming and kind. But sharing a joint isn't anything like taking a bunch of bong rips or dabbing, or hot-knifing hash. I remember the first time I got hella overstoned. I was absolutely fucking convinced I was never gonna be right again, like I totally broke my brain. And I couldn't trust all the sensations coming from my body...like...like I remember washing my hands, and having the water way on cold because I was afraid any heat was going to burn me. Hot water just felt _so_ good, and I couldn't trust it. Hell, at one point, I _was_ convinced I burned myself, and spent half an hour just looking at my hands to check. Really fucking sucked! But, then I got over it. Didn't help that I was by myself at the time, so no one was there to talk me down. So situation is the third big thing. Having cool people around while you chill is absolutely the best. Just...hard for me, finding people worth hanging with. Except now I got you! At...at least for a day or two, right?" She tried her best to chase the sad, nervous expression away from her face.

Tucking a few errant strands of hair underneath her beanie, Chloe concluded, "Trust me, Max, if you smoke long enough, you're going to have it happen to you. Rite of passage." She paused, starting the truck engine, and slowly pulling out of the driveway. "Kinda related matter, sorry to be like a selfish sounding bitch about it...I mean I'm happy to share my stash with you Max, but I'm running low as it is. So if we're gonna keep smoking together, ummm...I need more cash." She then held up a hand, defensively, in anticipation of what Max might have said next. "I mean, I know you just gave me some money and that's cool, great! Don't think I'm an ungrateful asshole, but I gotta give that to Frank to pay him off, you know? So it's just..." she bowed her head, and murmured lamely. "Sorry. I really suck."

Max leaned against the door of the truck, staring out the window, more or less spacing out. She glanced over, and reached out a hand, comfortingly rubbing Chloe's leg. "You...don't...suck. You never sucked. You've always been awesome, Che." And she meant it. Maybe she hadn't seen her in five years, but she damn well knew Chloe as a person, her core, her deep down nature. From the first time Max had seen her in action as kids, she always had faith in her.

 _I mean geeze, her Dad dies...my fault for that, kinda, and she gets the world's worst stepdad in exchange, and then some other girl comes along and like...uses her and shit and..._

Max felt a curious tightening in her chest, a sense of almost...panic? Anxiety? Gnawing need? The thought of this Rachel girl being - how would she describe it? - special? to Chloe just made Max...ugh! She couldn't put her finger on it, not through the warm, comforting haze of her marijuana buzz, but...

 _...she wasn't any good for her. Poor Chloe. God, if only I could have..._

And now she was going to have to leave her alone again, in another day or so.

 _Fuck!_

Realizing she'd fallen silent without meaning to, Max continued, "Seriously. You were awesome then, and you seem really awesome now, just - you're going through hard times. Believe me I know. And yeah, don't worry." She grinned lazily, "Your idea about scamming Keno actually sounded pretty cool. We can do that, make some money. Althoooough. Heh. Hee hee."

A giddy thrill went its way up her stomach as the part of her brain trained to consider 'out of the box' solutions kicked in.

Chloe smiled, a little misty, and murmured. "Th-thanks Max. I really missed you, you know? This is great. This is probably the best I've had it in almost a year. And, oh! I know that look. Is it cool? Does it involve time travel? Like traveling back to when weed was still legal, and bringing bales of it back!?"

Max started gigging, rubbing her face and arms floppily, before shaking her head. "N-no. Just...well...there's nothing stopping me from going to someone, pretending to buy weed, and as long as I grab the bag before they get the money, I could rewind away, and they'd never know I ripped them off."

Chloe stopped the car short, almost bringing it to a complete stop. Glanced around, and then pulled off to the side of the road.

"Wait. Wait, shit! Really? Like..."

"Like for cereal!" Max giggled again.

Chloe gazed at her with ferocious intensity. "How the hell does that even work? When you go back in time, doesn't the weed go away?" Chloe asked, incredulous.

Max shook her head emphatically. "Nope. When I carry stuff it's like, not part of normal space/time anymore. So I mean, say, if I go and buy something, and it's in my hands or on my person, and then rewind back ten minutes, it stays with me, but completely vanishes from wherever said thing was located ten minutes ago."

Chloe looked like she was about to hyperventilate from sheer joy.

"M-max. Okay, okay, okay, Max? Don't freak, okay. Let's all just chill, because this is perfect. This is perfect! You gotta do this, what I'm about to ask, okay? Not only is it hella cool, but it works because Frank doesn't know you, doesn't know you're my friend so...so so just..."

Max started laughing out loud. "Oh God, Chloe, _you_ chill!"

"No! I'm serious, okay." The blunette started to laugh, despite herself. "This is gonna be amazeballs!"

* * *

Ten minutes later, Max found herself in front of a skeezy yet oddly familiar looking RV, in the back parking lot of the Two Whales diner; five hundred bucks in hand and a quick briefing from Chloe on what exactly to say to this guy, the mysterious Frank.

Max was excited and nervous, at least as much as the weed would allow, but she wasn't all that terrified. After years of becoming familiar with her powers, and just as many years of psych-ops training, she figured it would be a pretty easy thing.

 _I mean, piece of cake, right? It's no different than all the manipulation exercises that they put me through. This guy's just some stupid criminal thug. Anything goes wrong, I'll just rewind, try again. No problem. None at all._

In theory, it should be like taking candy from a baby.

In theory...

 _Uh, assuming the weed doesn't fuck up my powers. Oh..oh, shit. Maybe I should test it...okay...back a minute. Yup. Yup I just went back a minute. Okay wait, did I? Yeah, yeah I did. C'mon, obviously. Don't freak out now, Max, This is going to be totally fine, you haven't had a situation where your powers stopped temporarily working for over two years now. Uh..wait? Wait a second. I think? Gah! So easy! Just do it._

Wasting no further time, she rapped on the door, and acted casual. There was a loud barking that was quickly hushed. The door cracked just a bit, and a man's voice murmured low.

"Fuck you looking for?"

"Heyyyy." Max murmured, hands in her hoodie pockets, and just sort of swaying a little, back and forth. "You Frank, right? Ah...heh. Justin, he told me you're the guy to go see. Y'know? For herbal medication."

"I don't know any Justin, fuck off."

 _Wow. A paranoid drug dealer. Who would have guessed?_

Flashing her winningest smile, and tapping into that lovely, mellow vibe still running up and down her brain, she laughed low. "Don't be that way, man. You know Justin. Skater boi, brownish hair, crappy 'statche. I mean, what the shit, you need him here to make introductions or something? C'mon, I got cash. Could be your cash, you know? Real quick."

Frank paused, clearly weighing the situation in his head. Max took it as a good sign that he didn't close the door and tell her to go away. After a few seconds, he pushed the door open a little more. Tall and lanky, maybe in his mid to late twenties, Frank had a scruffy blonde goatee to match his scruffy blonde hair. Beady, paranoid eyes raked her up and down, evaluating. "Alright. I'm trusting you. We make this fucking quick, and I'm not selling you anything but...ah...herbals. Got it?"

Max aimlessly toyed with her raven locks and bopped her head. "Yeah, yeah, s'cool. Whatevs, don't got a taste for the hard stuff anyhow."

"Hah, that's what they all say. Anyhow, get the fuck in quick."

She quickly scooted inside, then immediately regretted it when she came face to face with the snarling mutt inside.

 _AH JESUS..._

"...Christ! Fuck kinda dog is that?!" Max jumped with a start.

"Pompidou, sit." Frank said, in a dominant but not aggressive voice, supplementing his command with a hand signal. The dog immediately sat, but glared at Max, clearly ready to pounce on her with ferocious intent if given the signal.

Max glanced curiously between the two, mind going to work to intuit the situation despite the lingering buzz still partially clouding her brain.

 _Huh. Guy knows how to handle dogs. Clearly has a knack for it. Can see it in his body language. Why does it not surprise me that the drug dealer is secretly a softy for dogs? Can't say I blame him, given how shitty people in general are._

Max still gave Pompidou a wide berth. Even with her rewind powers protecting her, she instinctively felt a pang of fear stabbing her in the gut. But she went with that, used it, because it would be the expected response in this situation, from the character she was playing.

"N-n-nice doggie..heh...heh." She sat down on the chair Frank motioned to; he couldn't help but smirk at her response.

"Alright girl, make this fucking quick, I don't have time to dick around."

Max bit down on her lip, and began, "Yeah, right, so...it's my birthday at the end of the week..." Technically, this was true; according to her lifeclock, she'd be biologically nineteen sometime this week, depending on how many more hours she ended up burning off.

"Don't care." Frank interrupted. "Just tell me what me what the hell you want to buy, not your life story.

Max adopted an air of extra bravado, as she assumed someone in her position would, "Just an ounce of your top shelf shit. Justin was raving about this stuff you sold him last month it was called...ah...uh...fuck. Can't remember. But, I'm not picky, you know?" she flashed him a dazed smile.

Frank snorted, crooked his lips into an unkind smile. "I'll bet you're not. Well, I've got Girl Scout Cookies. Straight from Colorado. Cost you four-fifty. Take it or leave it."

 _Oh my God. Seriously? Girl Scout Cookies? That's what they call it? Geezus, that just sounds kinda...embarrassing._

One of the first things that Reese taught her when she was learning how to do this sort of work was...

" _...always reject the first offer. Seriously Max, no matter how reasonable it seems, no matter what your ultimate goal is, always reject it out of hand and try to negotiate. The kind of people you might have to deal with in undercover work, they're on the lookout to see if you're overly eager. If you don't try and fight them a bit, it'll get their paranoia humming. They're expecting you to try and screw them over, just a little, the same way they're trying to screw you. It's all part of the game."_

Max threw up her hands and whined. "Awww God...maaaan. But it really is seriously gonna be my birthday. And you know that's high for shit, especially when the state next door's got it legal. Can't ya knock off like fifty...?"

"No. Fuck you." Frank interjected. "Don't like it, then feel free to take your biz to any of the other fine purveyors in Arcadia Bay." He paused for a moment, then smiled viciously. "Oh right, it's just me. Don't like it, then drive your ass to Washington state. Otherwise, four-fifty. Try to talk me down again on it, and I'll kick your ass out."

"Fine!" Max groaned with feigned disgust, and then pulled out four crisp one-hundred dollar bills, flanked by a couple of fifties. "See?" she said, holding them out. "Legit, yeah?"

"Allll right. I do believe we can work together..." he started to reach out, but Max pulled the cash back.

"Eh-eh-eh! I showed you mine, you show me yours. Fair's fair, right? Show me an ounce of the good stuff."

He glared at her sideways, then raised his hands in ascent. "Right. Fine. You got me there. You just keep your ass in that chair while I head into the back. Otherwise..." he canted his head towards the dog.

Taking a moment to finally get a good look at her surroundings, Max shook her head, wondering how the hell he could live like this. It was the smell that got her first before the grubby dirt and the unclean looking surfaces in the interior of the RV; all wet dog and body odor. So gross!

 _Still, he's freer now than you've been for the past five years. Guy gets to live where he wants, picks up and drives if he doesn't like where he's at. There's something to be said for that._

Returning with a stash box and a scale, the scent of marijuana hit her like a wave as he unsealed a fancy looking glass jar. It was earthy, skunky, with undercurrents of citrus. Sharp. At least it covered up the worst of the stank inside, so for that she was grateful. He expertly measured out several of the fat buds, and then moved the scale over so she could see the read out.

"See? Twenty eight point six grams. I threw in the extra because it's your birthday." Frank drawled mockingly.

Max made sure to frown suspiciously, to act as if she were expecting to be set up or cheated. Hell, for all she knew, he was shorting her, but it was imperative she act accordingly.

"Dunno...seems a little light to me, man."

He took some off the scale. "Now it's twenty-three grams, but you still have to pay me the full four-fifty. You wanna keep at it, little girl?"

"Jesus fuck! Fine, fine, you win. Shit!"

She could practically hear Reese evaluating her actions in her mind.

" _Good. Nice touch Max, give him a chance to bare his teeth, show dominance, make himself the big dog. It'll lower his guard. Well played."_

Hell, now Max was absolutely gleeful at the notion that she was going to totally screw him over on this deal, scott free.

 _Man, drug dealers are assholes!_

"Damn right. I always win." he chuckled, and began to seal the remaining material up in a ziplock baggie. Clutched it tight in his hand, and extended the other one expectantly. "The cash, please?"

Max's mind whirled, trying to figure out the best exit strategy based on the variables at hand. She desperately wished she'd thought to bring one of her guns; the Desert Eagle certainly looked more intimidating, but was harder to conceal. There was the much more suitable Glock, in its spine holster back at Chloe's house, where it was doing her precisely zero good.

She could easily take this burnout in a fight; fuck, she could take three of him down. It was the dog that complicated matters. There was already a sick, lurching sensation in her stomach, as she realized what she'd probably have to do, in order to make this work. She was going to have to push hard past her squeamishness in order to pull it all off. Hell, if she actually did start this new life, running and surviving on the road, chances were good she was going to have to do some things that were going to make her hate herself: steal, lie, cheat. If she let her conscience constantly get in the way, she was going to be dead inside a week.

 _Consider this your trial by fire._

Max held out the money, moving slowly. Then feinted, grabbing his wrist, and quickly snapping it with vicious, trained precision. Frank roared in agony, but it had the desired effect: she was easily able to snag the baggie and make her way to the door.

Pompidou was on her in a heartbeat; untrained, she would have easily panicked, but she, much to her dismay, knew exactly where to kick out to disable an attack dog, or at least stun it temporarily; the steel toes in her boots delivering a crunch that might normally have been satisfying, except that it did nothing but cause the bile to rise to her throat, and slash viciously at her sense of empathy. Smashing her way inelegantly through the door, clutching both cash and weed in hand, she ran as quickly as she could to the dumpster, dog and master emerging from the RV with murder in their eyes.

A few minutes of rewinding, and none of it had happened. She quickly dashed down to the corner of the block where Chloe was waiting for her. Before heading to Frank's, Max had spent a few minutes at this spot, building a buffer for herself, just in case. Thus, with the past ten minutes of time now safely erased, she opened the truck and sat down.

She was trembling, her nerves on fire. The rush of adrenalin had completely chased away whatever buzz she had. But there was something to it, something more than just pure fight-or-flight.

The rush. It was incredibly unlike anything she'd ever experienced before. The power.

 _Oh...oh God. That was...that felt gooood!_

She'd essentially created the perfect crime. She stole from the asshole, and he'd never, ever know. Maybe he'd notice he was light an ounce of weed, but who the hell was he going to blame. Her? Fuck no! Because...because shit! She got away with it! She totally got away with it. She could do so much. So many things. And who the fuck was going to stop her?

It was an almost sexual feeling coursing through her now. Demonically dark , lusciously decadent...

...it scared the absolute fuck out of her.

"Ahh, what's up, Max? Forget something? Change of plans?" Chloe tilted her head curiously.

Max smirked, willing her hands to stop shaking. Held out the money first, and then the weed. Casually, she shrugged and murmured, acting like she'd done nothing more than walk down the street, something she'd pulled off a million times before.

"Like taking candy from a baby."

Chloe gasped, shuddered, her eyes wide with surprise and delight. "Fuck! But...but you just...you only left the truck for two seconds, Max! How did you even?"

"Time travel. I has it." she smirked with feigned cool..

Opening the baggie, Chloe brought it to her nose and sucked in a great lungful of air, shuddering in response.

"Frank said this stuff has a dumb name, like..."

"...Girl Scout Cookieeees!" Chloe moaned out. "Oh fuck! I had this shit only twice. Never forgot it though. Oh Max...eeeee...ma! We are gonna make the world bow before us! I should...maybe...ah." Chloe stared rather hungrily at the baggie, then shook her head. "No! No, definitely...we need to be good and save this for later. Yeah. Special occasion. Ha ha!" Max just stared for a moment, as Chloe leaned in, hugged her tightly, and kissed her on the cheek, before stashing the weed away in the glove compartment.

Another warm, thrilling flush shot through her body, and Max melted, despite herself. Her cheek burned where Chloe kissed it, and she found herself staring at the blunette, a goofy grin on her face. A new kind of heady buzz fogged up her brain; there was something about seeing the way the other girl was impressed, earning hoots and hollers and cheers; she felt helpless before its power.

 _But...but I like it. I like making Chloe happy. Making her think I'm special._

Max shook her head, groaned slightly, and scrubbed at her face. God! What was happening to her? It was like her mind was short circuiting, with a million different feelings. A storm raged across her brain; she felt nauseated and sick and invulnerable and marvelous, all at the same time.

Suddenly, her quiet little room, almost a mile below the streets of Seattle, seemed nice. A calm, quiet place to center herself. Echos of the nearly overwhelming panic and agoraphobia she felt when she went shopping by herself in Seattle last month raced to the forefront of her mind.

"Ummm...Max? Max? Are you okay?" Chloe asked, with growing concern in her voice.

She quickly nodded, giving what she hoped was a reassuring smile. "F-fine, Chloe. Just low blood sugar, you know? Let's go in and get some grub, I am seriously starved."

"Yeah, sure. Time travel work up an appetite?"

"Something like that."

Bouncing out of the truck, Chloe walked around and grabbed her hand as she emerged from her side. "Yeah! Waffles, and coffee, and shit! For SoooopaMax, the Queen!"

Max found herself still feeling powerless, but not so immediately overwhelmed.

 _Would be nice though, if I could just stop the world and get off for a few minutes?_

* * *

 _ **A/N:**_ Hey gang! Welcome back! It's Black Swan Saturday, New Years FRIDAY edition! Just couldn't wait to get back in the swing of it, so why not open 2016 the right way? Thanks to you all for being patient, and thanks as always, so very very much to **Corentin IV** for her skillful edits!

Sorry for taking such a long break, but boy, I really needed it. Sadly, I did not get nearly as much writing as I wanted/needed done BUT I'm quite confident that we should have five to six weeks of uninterrupted updates to take us through Tuesday in the series. I'm guessing we'll get through to about mid-February, and then take off again until March.

And check out the new cover! When SleepySenshi on Tumblr was kind enough to let me use one of her pieces as the cover art for A Power Greater Than My Own, I decided that I wanted to commission her to do fitting cover art for this series. I love it and I hope you do too! The full piece can be found att her Tumblr site.

So, here's to 2016 being a great one! A happy New Years to all my readers and all my wonderful friends here at FFN!


	19. Intent

Max and Chloe casually drifted into the Two Whales Diner, acting perfectly normal. Completely unlike two girls who not five minutes earlier breezily violated the laws of temporal causality in order to scam high grade weed off the local drug dealer.

 _Well, one girl._

Chloe smirked. "Dude, I gotta hit the little girls room, so why don't you grab us a table. Mom'll probably come and food us up before I get out. She knows what I like, so you just order whatever you want."

Max nodded once, then slowly made her way across the old prefab-style diner, a slice of life from the late nineteen-fifties, towards a both in the back. She took her sweet time about it, trying to soak up every detail, every nuance that she could. It was surreal to her, being back here again after all this time. It was the scent of Pine-sol and bacon grease that did it for her, immediately flooding her with nostalgia for the past; so many memories of times she and Chloe would hang out and plot their little schemes, curling up by the windows and watching the world pass by. It was practically a second home to her by the time she was taken away from Arcadia Bay.

The cherry red booths with their white trim, the chipped counter and dingy tile clacking underneath her boots, the curved display case featuring today's baked goods, not to mention the old jukebox sitting sullenly in the corner, twangy country music coming out of it's tinny speakers. The walls practically dripped with faded pictures of citizens long since gone and forgotten, little windows into the past of the sleepy little fishing village. Max imagined that if she were a normal teenager, she might find it embarrassingly hokey, but today? It was a symbol of the impossible, a manifestation of everything that was taken away from her by the Damocles Initiative. Even if she could only hold onto it for a few fleeting seconds, those sights and sounds and noises were enough to fill her with hope and joy to carry on for a hundred years of living on the run.

 _So this is how normal people live. The truckers, and the cops, and the fishermen. They all have their lovely little lives and shit, and none of them know how fucked up the world really is. That New York City almost bit it yesterday in a nuclear fireball, or that this town was almost destroyed five years ago this month._

Max longed for a little slice of their ignorance.

She slid into the booth and sighed gently, the last of the adrenaline from her larcenous adventure in time draining from her blood and bones. She stretched out, fingers tracing over the peeling fabric.

 _I missed it. This stupid little hick fishing town. I_ missed _it. So badly. It was everything I ever knew. Geezus, I wonder...if. Huh. Probably best that Mom and Dad don't live in town anymore. They might run into me, or worse yet, I couldn't resist running home to see them, and then everything would go to hell. Still, I wish I didn't have to leave it again. Not so soon._

Max let her gaze trace across the assembled patrons at the counter.

 _Oh fuck, is that a cop!? Wait, I gotta...play it cool. No! No don't put the hoodie up, that'll just draw attention. Just act casual, stare out the window._

It was barely a minute before Joyce Price, clad in the Two Whales blue polo dress, apron, and sensible flats, walked up with coffee pot in hand.

"Well there she is. Max Caulfield. I thought I heard you scampering around the house yesterday night. When David told me a positively glowing tale about the lovely young woman he ran into in Chloe's room..."

Max gave a nervous smile of her own, and tilted her head in the other woman's direction. "Hi Joyce. It's nice to see you again. You look the same."

The other woman looked down at herself, and goodnaturedly mused, "Like I'm still a waitress at the Two Whales after all these years?"

"No, like you still look pretty."

 _Oh shit...Max. You could have done better than that!_

All the same, it seemed to have the desired effect. "Nice save, kid." Joyce responded. "You're still smart. But I still would have liked a hi-how-are-ya before now."

Max blushed, and nodded. "Sorry about that. I guess...I just...well Chloe and me got so engrossed in catching up, you know? Just lost track of time. It was a shitty...sorry! A dumb thing."

Joyce smirked, pouring her a cup of coffee. "Well, I understand how girls, even young women, can get thoughtless. Especially when they haven't seen each other in so long. But tell me honestly, Max: are you really joining the - what was it David told me? - the Marines?

Max weighed her options as quickly as she could. She hadn't planned on having to keep up the deception for long, figuring she'd probably be gone soon enough. In David's case, she could have strung him along for most of a week, but Joyce?

Her other mother?

No. Even after years of government-grade secret spy school training, she couldn't lie to Joyce.

Well, not easily.

"Ah. Uhhh. No. S-sorry, Joyce. Just Chloe told me she and her step-dad didn't get along so hot, and I wanted to make a really good impression, you know? I guess I just got really crazy carried away with it. Because I'm studying acting, and it just kind of came out."

"Huh. I _thought_ so. Maybe I haven't seen you in half a decade, and maybe you've grown up a lot, but I still know how Max Caulfield ticks." Joyce laughed lightly.

"So, the truth then?" Max murmured, a blush coloring her cheeks.

"That'd be nice, darling. I'll forgive you for bullshitting David this once, so long as you don't pull it with me." Joyce gave her a kind but warning expression.

Max shook her head. "No! I know. And the truth is, I _did_ graduate high school, a year early. On account of all the time I spent in the summer, studying and earning credits. Mom and Dad they...they got kind of crazy about achievement, you know? Once I made it into Zion Academy."

Joyce nodded sagely. "Well, I must admit, you're parents...Oh Max, please don't take it unkind, but I always thought they went a little strange after you left."

Max nodded, sadly. "Yeeeeah. I know. Please don't think too bad of them, Joyce? They just thought they were doing the best for me. Pushing me so I could fulfill my full potential. But, well, we aren't exactly talking much at the moment, on account of all of that. It's sad, but right now, it's probably for the best."

It hurt, painting her Mom and Dad like crazy tiger parents who went off the deep end; She focused on remembering that this was all for the best. To keep everyone safe. She reached up, brushing a honest tear from her eyes, coughed lightly. "Sorry."

Joyce reached over, squeezing her shoulder. "Oh darling. You've got nothing to apologize for. It _is_ good to see you again, after all this time. Chloe, she's had a hard time of things lately. I'm sure she's told you some of it already. Point being, you've come at a time when she could really use a friend. If nothing else, I was hoping you could be a good influence on her. As much at least as David seems to think you are."

Max nodded once, smiled shyly. "Yeah, I can see that. And I'll try to be, while I'm here. Just - I wish I was staying longer, is all. I haven't figured out college. I mean, I _do_ want to go, just not sure where. I've got one or two places in mind, a safety school on deferment. I just need the next year to get my head on straight. After five years of being nothing but school school school. Push push push."

She paused, and then winced, "And...and I'm sorry about William, Joyce. So sorry. I didn't even..." She paused. She couldn't say she didn't know until yesterday. That'd bring up too many questions.

Max continued, "I know I didn't write, or call or - just believe me when I say it's complicated? I'm hoping to woman up for some of the shit of the past, you know? Balance out my karma."

Joyce leaned in, kissing Max on the top of her head.

"Darling, it sounds like you're moving on ahead with your life. That's a good thing. I moved along as well. Chloe? She's just chose to stay angry." Joyce drawled.

"Still, Joyce, I am so sorry about William. I have really great memories of him."

The older woman nodded. "Well, that was his gift to us. Wonderful memories of him. Even if Chloe doesn't understand yet."

Max shrugged sheepishly. "I dunno. I think she understands, but she needs time. As much as that much suck for you."

Joyce rolled her eyes, "Oh, she hit all the phases: expulsion, running away, drugs, bad boys, tattoos, piercings, blue hair. Now she's gotta rebel against her stepfather."

Max simply shrugged. She didn't feel like treading down that particular path.

 _And bad...boys?_

"Anyhow" Joyce stated. "Let's get down to the nitty gritty. I saw that lazy daughter of mine come in with you, so I know what she wants, but what would you like to eat?"

Max's stomach gurgled in anticipation, and she laughed lightly. "Feeling nostalgic, Joyce. Gotta go for the waffle, you know? Maybe a side of bacon?"

"Mmmmhmmm. Coming right up. Why don't you finish your coffee in the meantime?" With that,Joyce wandered off, to call the order in.

A few minutes later, she came back, plate in hand, with a softly announced, "Incoming! I can hear your stomach rumbling from here, Max. Here, you'll love this."

Max rubbed her hands together and looked down at her food. She could count the number of times on one, maybe both hands that she'd eaten breakfast - or any meal, really - outside of Zion Control. And a donut snagged from some East Coast chain hardly compared to the delectable, not to mention nostalgic, feast laid out before her.

"I'm already drooling like a b-"

Max stopped short.

 _Wait. Wait back up a second. What? Where did that come from? The flash on eating a donut...or something? Where...New York?"_

It was an incredibly mundane detail to suddenly recall, but it now rattled around, echoing inside the blank void in her memories; what little she could recall of everything between rolling back time in Seattle to her waking up in Chloe's bedroom.

She barely took notice as Joyce continued to talk, "Still can't believe you're a woman. When I look at pictures of Chloe - oh." She shifted her gaze over towards the other end of the diner as Chloe emerged from the bathroom. "Speak of the devil."

Chloe strode calmly across the diner tiles, like she owned the place. Perhaps not in any legally binding sense, but it was clear she considered The Two Whales her turf. She passed by some 'bro' Max didn't recognize, sitting in a booth near the door, and gave him a fist bump.

She smirked, and slowed up, "Mom and Max, together again."

"And Chloe, looking for a free meal." Joyce sighed with disdain. "You've put your whole damn college fund on your tab."

Max blinked, feeling a sense of helplessness well up as she was confronted with a wholly alien experience: derisive friction between Chloe and Joyce. In her mind's eye, circa 2008, Chloe and her Mom were still close. Maybe not the way she and and her Dad had been, but still. The thought of their relationship being strained these days cut through Max like a jagged knife.

"I'm treating Chloe for breakfast." she suddenly announced, putting on her winningest smile. Certainly, she had the cash to afford it, and if it defused the situation...

"This your way of atoning for yesterday?" Joyce asked. It was said lightly, with a hint of a playful smile, but Chloe jumped hard on it.

With a heavy roll of her eyes, she said, "Oh Mom, please don't give Max any shit for..." Suddenly, she paused. "Wait, what?"

Max blushed and confessed. "I - uh - couldn't pull the same trick on your Mom I did with your Dad. Sorry, Chloe...but it's Joyce, you know? I told her the truth, about me finishing up at Zion Academy early, and just getting my shit together while I defer college for a year. Even told her about how I'm not talking to my parents anymore so, it's cool."

 _God, I hope Chloe picks up on the change in plans...c'mon, of course she will! She's Chloe. She's been following my lead, or...or I've followed hers for...well. Not the past five years, but for a long time before that!_

Joyce shook her head. "It's alright. I know you're a good girl Max...er...woman. I promise not to spill the beans to David. For now."

Chloe stretched out, biting down on her bottom lip in visible frustration, hands stretched behind her head. "Good. 'cause she's too old to get any lectures from you or Sergeant Pepper.."

"Call him David if you don't want to be lectured." Joyce interrupted testily, before adding. "You only get one slice of bacon today." and walking away.

Not immediately sitting in the booth, and instead choosing to lean against it, Chloe glanced down at Max, who said, "Damn. I know you guys always used to poke at each other, but there's that and now - now this shit. Sorry, Chloe. Harsh."

"Another reason to blow this town." Chloe muttered, then glared angrily in the corner. "What is this shit on the jukebox?" She drifted lazily over, put in a few coins, and picked something out that Max thought she vaguely recognized as an old punk song from Cammie's music collection.

 _I Want Candy by Bow Wow Wow? Sounds close enough to it, at least._

As she made her way back to the booth, Chloe gripped the table and the upper part of the seat, lifting up her legs and leaping in, before sliding down onto her butt, prompting a grin from Max.

 _Hah...I love how you strut around like a badass, Chloe._

"Let's talk about your superpower!" the blunette whispered conspiratorially.

* * *

Chloe's brain was still reeling from the trick that Max pulled off earlier. From her perspective, it looked like Max did nothing short of producing some killer weed out of thin air. She trusted her of course, when her best friend told her that she actually went through time, did biz with Frank, and took it all back, weed in hand and that dickbag none of the wiser.

But there was still that bit of doubt in her mind.

 _Can't help it. Occam's Razor's kind of a bitch._

"Chloe..." Max started to softly groan out, putting her elbow on the table, laying her face against an outstretched palm.

"C'mon, Max! I'm sorry, but this is too cool! I want more proof you can really manipulate time! You know, we'll start slow, right here and now, and..."

Max gave a heavy sigh, and mumbled, in a bored tone of voice, "You have a panda bear keychain in your pocket, along with a cheap package of cigarettes with seven cigs still left. Also, eighty-six cents in change, including the quarter you're gonna think about holding in your hand to try and trip me up. Finally, a warning ticket dated September 21st, 10:34am, bitching about your shitty parking. You got a hoop you'd like me to jump through, while I'm at it?"

"Whoa...whoa hey now, Max. Chill." Chloe said, holding up her hands defensively. "Don't go jumping all over me, I didn't even say anything. Shit, _I_ don't even know what's in my pockets."

 _Jesus, why you so pissed at me?_

She tried to tamp down whatever hurt was welling up inside her at Max's sudden attitude adjustment as she emptied the contents of her jeans and jacket pockets onto the table.

She busied herself for a moment, double-checking everything...

...Max hadn't missed a single detail. She was perfectly correct, on all counts.

 _No...no way! How could she...this is impossible!_

"Amazeballs..." Chloe hissed softly. "I literally just got chills over my neck!"

Max gave her a pained expression, and lifted her head up. "Sorry. I didn't mean to get pissy with you. It's just..." she narrowed her eyes into a steely sharp-gaze, and pointed it out towards the distant lighthouse through the window. "...five years, Che. Five years, they poked and prodded me, and asked me to do all kinds of experiments. Push and push and push, trying to make me more powerful. Max, what happens if you rewind back with this in your hand? Max, take this file folder and hand it back to me, that way I know the experiments begun...Max..."

Chloe felt her heart sink down into her stomach, and the urge to crawl under the table burn hot at the back of her neck.

 _Fuck...FUCK! God, Chloe, you can be so stupid sometimes._

"No it's me being a total ass, Maxima. I just... _I'm_ sorry."

"For the record," Max smiled. "Now that it's over and done with, I actually don't mind showing off. I mean, only for you, of course. Because, you know, you think it's cool, and you aren't trying to figure out how to make an actual weapon out of it. That, and you'll let me leave the table when we're done."

And now Chloe's heart felt so much lighter. Before she could say anything more, Joyce returned.

"Take that crap off the table, Chloe!"

She quickly scooped everything into her pockets, mumbling, "sure, Mom", making room for the plate.

"How's the food, Max?", Joyce asked.

"Better than I remembered." Max said with a heartfelt smile.

"Very good save." Chloe's mother remarked, before heading off to take the next order.

Chloe stared down, grateful for the sudden shift, and began to attack her food.

"Man, I'm hungry like the wolf!"

"Clearly." Max remarked.

Barely a few seconds passed; Chloe just couldn't help herself, her mouth running ahead of her brain.

"I'm sorry Max, I'm still freaking out about what just happened. I mean, I know I've seen you do crazy shit before, but right here, right now, as an intentional thing? I...shit! Sorry...I'm gonna shut up now, okay? Like you said, you're not a lab rat. Not anymore."

Max reached out, squeezing her hand warmly. It sent chills up her arm, down her spine, in a way that seemed curiously familiar, and oh-so-delightful.

"Chloe, I don't mind. For you, I seriously don't mind, now that I've had a moment to check my inner bitch at the door. Because - ah - because...I mean, I wanted to show you this from day one. Seriously, I spent hours trying to figure out how to explain it to you and...oh. Oh holy shit."

Chloe tilted her head. "This a good shit, or a bad shit?"

"I forgot. You remember the day they took me away? During school, I said I had to talk to you about something at the Two Whales Diner?"

"If you say so, Max." Chloe said. "Sorry, my memory's crap at best. I'm not even going to try and avoid blaming the weed."

Max snerked. "Okay, so...so I'm just going to pretend this is that moment we never got together, right? The moment they took away from me, where I was going to show my best friend in the whole world this awesome new power of mine."

Chloe felt her throat tightening, another flush of warm tingles, tinged with disgust over what had been stolen from both of them by those uncaring assholes in the government.

"O-okay, Max. Whatever you've got to show me." she paused, then spoke in an increasingly confident tone. "What do you got that you possibly think can top all the craziness you've done so far, huh?"

 _Go on, Max! Be a star! I'm ready to cheer on your continued awesomeness!_

Twitching her lips, Max began to wave her finger in the air in circles, almost as if it were a magic wand. "For my neeeext act..." she drawled. "I will predict the future. The next thirty seconds."

Chloe crossed her arms over her chest, leaned back and said, "I stand ready to be amazed! Or...sit ready."

Max started to point out as she calmly, confidently predicted. "The trucker guy over there? He drops his mug, and your mom totally rips him a new one for it. A few seconds later, the cop at the counter gets an alert call, but he complains because his partner in the car leaves without him."

"Dooo go on..." Chloe murmured, grinning like a loon.

"Then those two dipshits over there..." Max paused, blinking. "Oh! _That's_ Justin? Huh. He looks like...yeah. And you tell me the other guy's name is Trevor. They get into some kind of bro-fight, and Joyce breaks it up."

"This is getting good! Can't wait to see what happens!" Chloe said with rising expectation.

"Annnd finally? That jukebox goes nuts over there, just as a cockroach crawls over it. Ugh..." Max glanced down at her food. "And suddenly I'm not so hungry anymore." She shrugged, and after a few more seconds, went back to eating, undeterred.

Max continued eating, completely unconcerned, and showing absolutely no interest in whether she was right or wrong. Chloe, on the other hand, was on the edge of her seat, preparing to be dazzled.

And then, like a glorious domino arrangement falling into satisfying place...

"Ooops!"

A mug shattered noisily on the floor

"Did you break another cup? Really? No refill for you!" Joyce groaned in dismay.

The police radio the African-American officer was wearing crackled to life.

"Shoot, now I gotta take this call and leave my breakfast. Hey, where is my partner?"

A police cruiser just outside roared to life and took off without him.

Chloe couldn't believe it. Not a damn second of it. She gripped the side of the table, gazing at Max for confirmation. All the other girl did was smile sweetly, chewing through her waffle. Suddenly, she grabbed her fork and waved it around like a conductor's baton.

"Hey...hey Chloe... watch this." Max mouthed the following words...

"You're a dick!" Trevor called out.

"Don't slap me, bitch!" Justin retorted.

"Take your fight club outside!" Joyce demanded.

"He started it!"

"I'm finishing it!" she added.

Max stopped lip synching, jabbed at a piece of waffle and then lifted it to her lips, wiggling in her seat in victory. She snapped her fingers behind her, and like clockwork, the jukebox started to go haywire, playing songs at random.

 _No...no way! This isn't...this is crazy! Impossible!_

"Go on." Max giggled at her.

Chloe sputtered. "What...go on? What the hell do you mean?"

"Say it. Whatever you were just about to say." she cooed.

Chloe laughed sharply. "Fuck, you already know whatever it was! Why should I?"

"C'mooon. I wanna hear it. Again. You look cute when you say it."

 _C...cute? Well then...and I mean...yeah! I guess I_ was _about to..._

Chloe genuflected across the table, and in an exaggerated fashion, declared, "I pledge allegiance to Max, and the power for which she stands!"

Max shook her head, still laughing lightly. "You know, it _is_ a lot more fun, doing this with you. I mean, Jenkowitz, that asshole. He'd laugh and he'd hoot and shit, but I always felt like he was laughing _at_ me. But you're enjoying the moment right along side me. It's really different."

"How could I not be! This is like the best toy ever! Hell, you can bang anyone with no strings attached, rewind time, and boom! It's like it never happened!"

Max covered her eyes, shaking her head, trying her best to keep from smiling. "I can't believe that's the first place you went to, Che."

Chloe wasn't sure why she said what she did next. Something inside was egging her on. By the time she realized the words came out of her mouth, it was too late.

"Maybe you made a move on me already, and I would never know!"

The two of them stared at each other, across the table, both blushing furiously, as the conversation screeched to a dead halt. Chloe reached up, rubbing the back of her head, laughing nervously.

"Just..cause...ah...you know. Jokin', Max. Ha ha...mouth's running away, cause I'm thinking of all the cool shit I'd do if _I_ was you...you know...without the government shit happening, and...ach!"

She immediately proceeded to abort the conversation by shoveling food into her mouth.

Max held her light smile, staring at her. Chloe did her best to ignore it. Not that it was unpleasant. Really, it was totally the opposite.

 _Can't believe I just said those actual words. God, what the hell, Chloe?_

Fortunately, Max must have taken pity, because she busied herself by falling silent and working on the rest of her meal as well.

They said nothing more, simply eating together, and occasionally sneaking glances back at each other. Max's smile slowly faded away into an expression that Chloe would best describe as 'troubled concern'. She couldn't help but get the sense that Max was working up the nerve to tell her something.

Just as she started to open her mouth, Max beat her to the punch.

"Chloe? There's something I wanted to tell you."

"Oh yeah?" she muttered around her mouthful of toast.

Max nodded, fidgeting at the table. Taking a deep breath, she started to talk, then lost her nerve. Took a drink of her own coffee and tried again. Failed, and then glanced around nervously. Her friend then leaned in across the table, beckoning her close.

"Wow, some heavy duty shit about to go down?" Chloe gently teased. She regretted saying it, as soon as she saw the pained expression it produced on the other girls face.

 _Ah God! Chloe, stop with the make bad talk do, already!_

"The day I went back, the very first time? It did it because - because your Dad died. And I managed to stop it." Max held up a hand, immediately cutting Chloe off before she could react. "This happened in 2008. Not 2009. Like I said before, it was the day your Dad took that last picture of us together. He couldn't find his keys, had to take the bus in order to pick up your Mom. And then a few days later, I got taken away."

Chloe nodded once. "Yeah. Yeah, I told you, I remember that day."

 _What the hell, Max?_

Leveling an intense gaze at her, Max continued. "That _isn't_ how the day happened. Not originally! Your Dad found his keys, took the car, and...and there was an accident. He died. A week or two later, and I was in your room with you, right after the service. You were so torn up about it, in so much fucking pain. All I remember is that I was intensely, incredibly desperate to comfort you, but I felt like I was absolutely powerless to help you through the grief. I just kinda zoned out, you know. On the picture in your wall, of the two of us. The next thing I knew, it was like I somehow took over my body in the past. I tried to hide the keys the first time, but your Dad found them. _That_ was when I figured out not only could I go back in time through the photograph, but I could rewind time around me as well."

Max took another long pull of her coffee, her hands trembling. "Took me a few tries to get it right. Tried a bunch of things, shit with the phone, shit with your Dad's keys, but it wasn't until the fifth or sixth time that I finally succeeded. I mean, it was like time itself was fighting me, you know? Telling me 'Hey! No! No fucking around.' But I did it, Chloe. I beat it. Your Dad had to take the bus, and then next thing I knew, I was back in my body, but the present changed. We were having dinner, and I was so happy. You even said..."

"'...I don't know where you scored the stuff, but can I have some?' Or something like that. Shit, I actually remember when that happened." Chloe interrupted. "I wondered why you were suddenly normal one moment, and then so totally jazzed the next."

And then it hit her. Max's revelation made its way past the mere intellectual acknowledgement, and finally struck her emotional core like a piledriver.

She reached over and grabbed Max's arm, a sense of wild desperation overtaking her. "What happened, Max? What happened? You say you saved my Dad, but he still died!"

Max choked back a sob, turning away, trying her best to keep from making a scene. "I know! I know, I mean! I didn't _know_ until you told me yesterday! And I don't know why he still died...again! Maybe it was just bad luck. Maybe God or the Universe or Time was pissed, and decided he needed to die anyhow. I don't know, Chloe! Believe me, I don't know! I never tried to use that power ever again. Davies...uh...she...she was like my teacher at Zion, and kind of like a Mom to me and...well...it scared her too. She told me I needed to pretend I couldn't do it anymore. Shouldn't even try. I just..." her body shook quietly with another couple of quiet sobs. "I'm sorry, Chloe! I'm so sorry! I don't even know why I just told you, but I feel so guilty about it now."

Chloe reached over, comfortingly rubbing Max's arms and shoulders, glancing around and making sure that they weren't attracting any undue attention She stared out, far away, gazing at the dingy little diner, and the shitty little town that surrounded it.

 _Fucking Arcadia Bay. This shithole. Taken away everyone I ever loved. Best thing that could ever happen to this place is for them to nuke it to glass! It's what it deserves! But...but now...maybe it could be better?_

Without even pausing to consider the consequences, or even the appropriateness, Chloe immediately asked, "Could you do it again?"

Max blinked, rubbing her eyes and sniffling. "W-what?"

Chloe looked Max dead in the eyes, trying to keep her voice as even as possible. "Go back in time. Back to that day, Max. Seriously, do you think you could?"

Max stared back at her. She didn't answer at first, clearly shocked, acting like she didn't hear the question properly. But the look on Chloe's face...

 _...shit...I don't need a mirror to know what I look like right now. Like I've never been so desperate for anything in my life. Oh God...I'm sorry, Max. I'm sorry, but I need to know. I gotta ask. I gotta!_

"D-dunno. Never tried. It's been five years now, Chloe. Five years, and I have no idea. But...I mean, you're not seriously asking? Right?" Max asked, clearly not liking where this line of conversation was leading.

Chloe pushed down the knot of guilt and trepidation building up in her gut. The tiny voice in the back of her brain, the one that whispered 'Chloe, perhaps we should pause and consider the ramifications here.' - which was never all that powerful to begin with - flared up briefly, and then was snuffed out.

 _I need to convince her to try. Holy shit...could I really get my Dad back? For real? Make things so much better for me. And...Joyce! She could go back to being just Mom again!_

Chloe leaned in further, gripping Max's hands in her own, and hissed softly. "Max. Please. Pleasepleaseplease. I'm begging you, if you can make it work, give it a try. I need you to go back, however you do it, to the day my Dad died...I mean...I mean 2009? Shit, this is confusing! Whatever you did before, I need you to do it again!"

Max gave a strangled cry, jumped a bit at the contact, but otherwise held still. She whispered back, eyes flashing with alarm and confusion, "Chloe! I can't! I don't understand how I did it in the first place! And I'd be changing five whole years if I _could_ go back. It would be...oh God, it could be so..."

"...good!" Chloe interrupted. "Max! My life - fuck it, my life has been shit since Dad died. I mean you saw David, you know how pathetic it is that Mom lowered herself, clearly she was lonely and desperate. And I got kicked out of school, and...SHIT! Max, this could fix so much for me, so much! And...and..."

 _No...don't go there Chloe...don't...dont dont dont..._

She gave Max a vaguely wheedling look. "I mean it could help you out too, you know? Maybe not the five years you're stuck in some Government internment camp or whatever, but when you finally make it back again. Think of how much better it'll help you too? Imagine if my Dad was still alive! You could convince him to help out, yeah!? We could both be on your side, and just imagine. Because - 'cause he knows people. I mean, he knew. Like media people and lawyers and...I just..." she swallowed back the bitter, acrid tang of guilt, brought on by manipulating her friend in such a petty fashion.

 _I shouldn't be doing this. God help me, but I can't fucking help it!_

Chloe was practically on the edge of hysterics by this point. "I need you to try, Max! P-please! Just, just once. I'll never ask you for anything again. Please..."

She was shaking, tears welling up. There were few times she'd ever experienced anything even close to this sort of self-loathing inducing need. Everything bad in her life was tied up in her father. There was never any question of trying to make this happen, once she learned the truth, no matter how much it might hurt Max.

 _She'll understand. She will, in the end!_

Max bowed her head. Bit her bottom lip, squeezed her hands. In a tiny, frightened voice, she croaked out.

"Okay. I'll try."

Chloe rushed forward across the table, hugging her tight, and whimpering. "Oh God. Thank you! Thank you! What do we need? Do you just go back now, or?"

"Pictures." Max groaned, in a monotone voice. "I think I need a picture. Can try one of you and your Dad together, right before he died, but it probably won't work."

"I still have the one of you and me! I know it's the wrong year in that one, but maybe you could go back and try to convince me somehow!?"

Max simply nodded, withdrawn and quiet. She didn't protest when Chloe grabbed her by the hand, and led her in a rush out the door and into her truck. Neither spoke on the way back to her house, and it was all Chloe could do to keep from pressing the gas pedal down to the floor, and speeding like a bat out of hell.

 _Just keep thinking about getting Dad back. Just keep focused on that!_

* * *

 **A/N:** Oh Chloe... *shakes head disapprovingly*

So hey! It's Black Swan Saturday! Lyta pulls the puppet's strings, and Corentin stares with stark, black disapproval in Chloe's direction!

I must admit, one of the things I always wanted to tackle was Life is Strange's stubborn refusal to let Max tell Chloe what the hell happened when she tried to change the past until the very, very end, and then Chloe just kind of shrugs it off when told. I was so displeased with how that was handled, that I actively FORGOT that Max even told Chloe at all until Theo reminded me. That's like, a pretty major fucking thing right there. To just kind of shrug it off the way she did really disturbed me. Because it's obvious Chloe has abandonment issues, and so much of that is tied up in losing her father. I figured if there was something, some all-corrosive One Ring like situation that would make Chloe absolutely trip out, it would be this. It just felt right.

This was originally going to be part of one LOOOOONG 12,000 word chapter, but I realized it worked better as a two parter, especially because now I get to torment you with this cliffhanger ;-) But anyhow, I just finished the first draft on chapter 24 last night, and chapter 25 should wrap up all of the "Tuesday Arc" of the series. So I should have updates all the way straight through until February 20th before we have to go on hiatus again. Boy, ultimately eight - or possibly more - chapters just to get through one day. Pretty damn eventful day!

Have a wonderful weekend!


	20. Responsibility

The next few minutes flew by in a confused, anxious blur. Max quietly sat at the edge of the bed, while Chloe tore apart her room, going through her photo collection, until she snagged the two pictures she'd been so desperately searching for: one of her and her Dad, when she started Junior year in high school. Back when she was still achieving high marks, back when her life actually meant something. Back before having to take time off for academic probation, and before David, and before fucking Blackhell, and asshole Frank, and crazy loser Nathan, and manipulative bitch Rachel.

She stuck on the last accusation: manipulative bitch.

 _Maybe that's the reason why you and I were ever together at all, huh Rache?_

She stuck the first picture in Max's hand. "This is about a week before it happened. Dad picking me up at school, Mom took the picture. Just remember, November 7th, 1:35 PM. That's when it happens!"

Max narrowed her eyes as she dejectedly gazed at the photo: Chloe, with her dirty blonde hair, smiling face, vaguely preppy attire, although she was starting to pick up a little bit of attitude, soft flirtation with a more punk aesthetic. Looking vaguely embarrassed to be caught with her Dad but...she's still his little girl, and knows it. They're waving for the camera.

A minute. Maybe two, that's all it took for Max to give up.

"S-sorry." She whispered, barely loud enough for Chloe to make out. "I-I can't feel it. There's a thing. It's like a catch, a way of shifting my mind, I think. Only did it once, Chloe. Only did it..."

Chloe immediately swapped the newer picture out for the older one. It was a long shot. Max was somehow going to have to convince her that her father was going to die a little over a year from that day. She braced herself as she watched the other girl focus on the photo, then wondered what she should be bracing for.

 _This should be instantaneous, right? Maybe it takes time for the changes in the past to catch up?_

She shifted nervously, pacing back and forth.

 _Shit! Is the fact that I'm still standing here, wondering what's going to happen mean that nothing worked? Or did it just create another timeline, and I'm still stuck here in mine?_

She had to laugh at herself, as she began to seethe with jealousy at this other Chloe, the one with a still-living father. She had no idea exactly how time worked. Shit, she wouldn't even have taken it this far, except it was so obvious now that Max was truly able to control time to at least some extent. She'd proven that much to her in the last hour, beyond the shadow of a doubt.

But something was obviously not working; it'd been three minutes now, maybe longer. Nothing changed, at least nothing detectable.

 _Wait! What if everything changes but me!? I remember the old timeline, but no one else does. Well, no one else except for Max. Wait, no that doesn't make any sense, wouldn't I have remembered it, the last time she saved Dad? Ugh!_

Further meditations on the nature of time would have to wait, as the still silence of the moment was shattered by Max.

It came on softly as first, like distant thunder. Chloe wasn't sure if she was gasping or crying. The tears streaming down Max's face told her the rest. Seeing how upset her friend was becoming quickly blunted the fire of self-righteous desperation that was raging in her heart minutes earlier.

 _Fuck. Nice going, Chloe! You pushed her too hella far and now she's freaking out. Made it so important she go back and try and save Dad, and she can't make it happen. Look at her, she's crying because she's afraid you're going to hate her forever. You suck so much!_

She reached out, resting a hand on Max's, and murmured, "Hey...hey look. I'm sorry. Obviously, it's not working, and I'm a selfish bitch for pushing you that way. I promise, I'm not mad. Disappointed, yeah, but not.."

Disappointed didn't even come close to explaining how she felt. She wanted to howl with anger, beat her chest, throw shit around the room. How dare it not work! How dare the universe tease her like this! Put her in a position where she manipulates her best friend.

 _...and...and...FUCK!_

Max looked up at her, eyes glistening, her face a burning mixture of sadness, anger - for her or her failure, Chloe wasn't sure. Maybe both things at once. But then something curious happened. She shifted instantly in position, that same sort of 'frame skip' like what happened yesterday when she warned her about David coming up to bust her.

She wasn't prepared when Max leapt forward, hugging her tightly.

"Chloe. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry! Oh God...oh God, you're okay! Fuck yes, thank you Thank you for being okay. I don't...sorry. Shit. I am really messed up. I had to roll back another twelve hours at least, compensate for the shift. And how do I even...?" She rose up from the bed.

"Max! Take it easy! It's okay. Christ, I am so sorry! Please don't..." Chloe started to beg

Max didn't let her finish. "I had to take it back. I had to take it all back! I-I mean almost all of it back. I didn't.." she paused long enough to try and catch her breath, wipe her eyes, "I was too scared to see what would happen if I undid _everything._ But it was worse, Chloe. I made it worse!"

Chloe was afraid to ask. "How the hell could it be any worse?"

Max held up a hand, then paused to check something on the fancy wristwatch she never seemed to take off. Taped a few buttons on it, and then lit up. "Shut. The Fuck. Up. Jesus, it actually worked! Yeah. Yeah, it...Chloe. Laptop, I need to put some shit on it, like right now!"

She waved towards it, while flopping down onto the bed. A sick feeling building up in her stomach.

 _Max, you aren't fucking with me, right? You better_ not _be playing with me. You don't have to lie and tell me you went back and had to take it back, you can just tell me it didn't work. You would, right? You wouldn't manipulate...well shit, I can't talk right now._

Max worked at the laptop, and Chloe rose up, trying to catch a peek over her shoulder. She noticed her doing something with a few files, and Bluetooth. Something about transferring some data?

The other girl rose up, and held out a hand, pointing to the chair at the desk. "You need to see this, Chloe. You need to see what happened."

Chloe, for the life of her, had no clue what Max was currently feeling. Scary pissed off or just scared? Hurt? Relieved? There was an intensity, like she was trying desperately to hold back All The Feels, keep them from overwhelming her.

"The files. I numbered them all so..." Max intoned. "Look at them in order. I...I need to rest. God. I think I might have...kinda broken something. Sprained myself, like inside, you know?"

With that, she slumped off, calling out in a tired, warbling voice, "I'm crashing on the couch."

Chloe sat there alone for a minute, blinking. Confused as shit. Her head was spinning and she felt like she wanted to cry, vomit and laugh all at the same time.

There were six files: two videos and four JPEGs. Chloe double clicked on the icon for the first video.

It was a recording made on a digital camera, or maybe a phone? There was a scratchy graininess to it, some sort of underlying roar and metallic tinniness in the audio portion, glitches and artifacts in the video. Not bad enough to keep the file from being viewable, but enough to suggest it got corrupted somehow, or was taken at super-low quality.

It resolved itself into her living room. And sitting at the dining room table...

...was her Dad.

Chloe was struck stupid. Her mind refused to understand what she was seeing. She literally could not remember watching the past minute of video, and it caught her by surprise when it ended. She rewound, ran it again, forced her mind to accept what it was she witnessing.

 _It's Dad! It's a video of him. The file timestamp says it was taken...three hours from now? The hell?_

He looked older. More than four years would account for. And sad. He was smiling for the camera, but there was a weariness in his eyes..

No, worse than that. Exhaustion. Like a man whose inner light was on the brink of being snuffed out, but still struggled to fight on as valiantly as he could, without anger or hatred in his soul. Chloe's heart was on the razor's edge of splitting in half at the sight.

" _H-hey William."_ Max's voice called out. _"I'm just - I'm taking a video to show my parents."_

He was surrounded by paperwork. A lot of it. Bills? Whatever it was, it was clearly something he was quietly agonizing over.

He put on his bravest smile, and spoke in a soft voice. _"Max. Hey. Hi Vanessa, Ryan. Just want to say that it's been really wonderful having your daughter here. Chloe's real...it's made her real happy to see her again."_

He swallowed.

" _I really missed her."_ Max continued. _"I'm so sorry I couldn't - that I didn't write, afterwards..."_ She was undergoing her own struggle, trying to keep her voice from cracking completely.

Chloe watched, completely transfixed, while an ancient, primitive part of her brain kept screaming at her, over and over again: this wasn't the sort of thing _anyone_ was ever meant to watch. That she should stop, delete the file, not look at the others.

She _needed_ to stop.

She couldn't.

" _But you're here now, Max. That's all that matters. It means a lot to me and Joyce. And I know it means the world to Chloe."_

" _...she means the world to me as well."_ Max murmured, sniffling back hard. _"And uh...she loves you. A lot. You're her favorite Dad of all."_ She laughed dolefully, and he joined in. It only lasted for a second or two.

He shrugged, smiled painfully again, and then glanced down at the paperwork on the table. _"Well. I do try...I do try. My little girl is worth it. Always will be. Anyhow, thank you. I appreciate you getting my mind off these bills, if just for a few minutes."_

The video suddenly cut out.

Chloe had to make herself remember there were still the other image files to look through. As she brought them up on the screen, a heavy, dark, sick feeling continued to boil inside her stomach.

" _This letter is to notify you that you are in default of your payment obligations on your home loan, account #783..."_

"The...they're gonna lose the house? Why? What the hell's going on?"

" _Wish I could have sent you a bigger check, but you know the story. Money is nobody's favorite thing."_

"Holy shit." Chloe breathed out. "That's Uncle Aaron's handwriting!"

The next one was from her Great Aunt Dorothy, apparently telling her mom that she couldn't loan her any money, because she had medical bills of her own to pay.

 _Medical bills? Just what the hell is going on? What happened to me!?_

The answer reared up, like an iron serpent, striking at last and crashing into her with full force after she opened the fifth file. The contents left her numb.

 _ARCADIA BAY SPINAL CENTER_

 _Dear Mr. And Mrs. Price,_

 _As we discussed last week, Chloe's respiratory system is showing signs of rapid weakening. This account for her recent anemia and loss of breath. As a doctor, I am committed to her well-being, but I want you to understand the reality that respiratory failure is common in people with severe spinal injuries. Your daughter is one of the bravest, strongest patients I've ever had and I'm proud to be working with her. I just want you as parents to prepare for any and all possibilities. I believe Chloe should also be made aware of her changing condition. If you would like to discuss this further, you have my contact information._

 _Best,_

 _Dr. Anton Phibes_

"Sp-spinal...what?!" Chloe quaked out. She couldn't believe what she was reading. Someone else's life, someone else's tragedy.

 _Did I get crippled? How?! Just because Max saved my Dad?!_

The sum of all Chloe's fears were confirmed as the last file, the second video, resolved into an image of herself. Stuck in a bed. The camera panned around from her, to look around - well, it was originally the garage, but it had been turned into a hospital room, from the looks of it. Fancy, and obviously expensive, according to the letters she just saw.

 _Oh shit...am...am I a vegetable?_

She - rather, this other Chloe, the one in the video - was obviously trapped in the bed. Unable to move. But there was awareness in the eyes. Emotion. So much of it.

The camera was placed down on a little table right in front of her.

" _This, uh, this good, Che?_ " Max asked.

Chloe couldn't believe what she was seeing. This other version of herself. The one with longer hair, still blonde. But there were tubes coming out of her, literally out of her neck, like she couldn't breathe without the machines next to her. Other Chloe narrowed her eyes; she was trying her best to hold it together emotionally. Steel herself up for something.

" _Great, Max. I need to be alone for this though. Could you go right outside? I'll call out when I'm done._ "

" _Sure..._ "

After a few seconds, Other Chloe glanced back, only with her eyes, towards the camera.

" _Hi. This is weird, you know? Max doesn't know if this is going to work or not, but I told her it was worth a try. It's really important for you to understand what..."._ Her voice wavered, splintering for a moment, before she regained composure _. "What you did."_

She choked a laugh back. _"Still can't believe I'm doing this. Part of me still says none of this is real, but Max showed me some shit. More than just magic tricks. Like she's suddenly some kind of crazy, time-controlling ninja. But it all makes sense, y'know? Why she suddenly left town, why her parents went weird. Anyhow, look, I don't have a lot of time, I don't think I can do what I need to for long. Not without fucking losing it, so let me get through this as quick as I can...Chloe."_

Chloe's thought were wheeling wildly now. If she had trouble fully gazing upon the video of her own father-who-never-was, what she was watching now felt like it was corroding her sanity to an irreversible fragility.

 _No. No no no! This can't be...this isn't happening! What am I watching?! This is so wrong!_

And yet, she couldn't look away.

" _So Max Caulfield came back to visit. Five years later. Five years of total radio silence, and then she comes knocking on the door yesterday. With a really lame-ass story about time travel, and the government and..."_

She coughed, then continued. _"Ah God...I mean..she didn't tell me all of it at first. No, first we took a walk down the beach. And by that, I mean she walked, I sat in my wheelchair. But it was nice, actually. Yeah? I should have been so fucking mad at her, but when she managed to explain...when she actually showed me some of the shit she could do. Predicting the future. Practically reading my mind, when I told her to tell me what I was thinking...I gotta believe. I gotta believe because she says she can fix how I...yeah. Yeah, I'll jump to how I joined the ranks of the quadriplegic in a moment."_

Chloe couldn't watch the computer screen any longer. She spent the next few seconds, her eyes covered up with a desperate hand, as she endured listening

" _Couple weeks before she disappeared,"_ Other Chloe continued. _"Max shoves this letter into my hand, day my Dad goes to pick up Mom at work. Had to take the bus, his keys went missing, weird as shit. So she gives me this letter, and tells me it's like the most important thing ever, but that if she ever disappears in the next month, if the last thing she ever did was text me, saying she was leaving for a new school, that it was because someone managed to kidnap her. Take her away. And if this happened, I had to read her letter and take it seriously. I, ah, I thought it was a fucked up game. Almost tossed the stupid thing out. Especially when Max acted like she had no idea what I was talking about, two days later. But a couple weeks after, she up and totally disappears. Just like she said she would, one last shitty text message, and bam. She's off to some Zion Academy place."_

There was a pause, and Other Chloe grumbled. _"Wish I could blow my fucking nose right now. God, feel so gross."_ She continued. _"So I opened the letter, of course. It said that on November 7th, 2009, I couldn't let Dad out of the house. That I needed to convince him to stay with me, and he shouldn't be anywhere near the streets at 1:35 PM. It was damn freaky, because it was so specific. I held onto that letter though: it was all I had left of Max. But I almost chickened out. A year came and went, and I just about lost my nerve to go through with it. Still, the day arrived, and so...I faked being sick. Begged Dad to stay and keep me company."_ She paused, her eyes rheumy now, as she recalled. _"He read to me like he used to when I was a little girl, after I had a bad dream. He totally stayed and indulged me. Because of course he would, he loves me, so much! But ah...Alyssa Anderson died. Hit and run. 1:35 PM on the dot. Didn't find out until the next day. I always...always wondered if that car was meant for Dad, and someone else took the hit instead. I tried not to think about it, what it cost to keep him. I was scared, and freaking out, because my old best friend, who was gone now, managed to warn me about the future. She gave me back my Dad! And for a while, I was really happy. I promised to make every sacrifice worth it! Hers. Alyssa's. You...you don't just..."_

She paused, coughing weakly, trying to get back on track. The noise caused Chloe to uncover her eyes and start watching the video feed again.

" _And uh...uh so my Dad. When I got my driver's license, he bought me a car. Life was going great. Until the day some prick in an SUV cut me off and I flew into a ditch. I felt my back snap. That was it. After that, I've never felt anything else in my body. Woke up in the hospital, and I couldn't move a muscle. I didn't never see Max again...your Max? Shit, this is so complicated. Until she showed up at my door again."_

Other Chloe gave a smile, a brief, fleeting thing, before settling her face back into a grim countenance.

" _So. Now you know. It...it explains so much now. Why it happened. I mean, it's like a punishment, don't you think? Max acted out of kindness, sympathy, from what she told me. Even love, you know? The first time she saved Dad. She got snatched up by the Feds, but you got another year with him. Wasn't enough for you, was it?" Other_ Chloe grit her teeth, fury in her eyes, that suddenly gave way to bemusement. " _Shit. Can't blame you. We're a headstrong bitch, right? I probably would've done it too, if what Max told me is true. That Dad died, Mom married some military nut. S'fucked up. But Chloe? This shit is wrong. This is my punishment. Because I...because_ you _couldn't accept that Dad was fated to die. I know it sounds crazy, but how else can I see it?! Max told me that Dad died saving Alyssa. I mean, Christ, I almost lost it right then and there, when she explained it."_

Tears started to run down Other Chloe's face; clearly she was powerless to wipe them, and it made it difficult for her to keep her eyes open as she talked.

" _You pushed Max to go back and save Dad again, and hooray! You won! But look at what it cost us! Max still ends up in some sort of government lab, Alyssa Anderson dies when she was meant to live, and you're right where you fucking belong!"_ Other Chloe was trying to keep from yelling now. Only her head was trembling, her voice quavery and cracking. " _Right where you fucking belong, bitch. And guess what...ha ha...you're dying. I'm dying. My folks, the Docs...they don't know I figured it out. They thought I was zonked out on the morphine when they were talking about it but...my respiratory system is failing. Too much damage from the accident."_

She paused, biting down on her bottom lip. _"Okay, look, Max says she can fix this, and I believe her. That she can take away all of this hell! She can go back, and undo what she did, what you told her to do, but...I can't take that chance. I can't risk it not working. Seeing Max, my poor, precious angel, and the time we've spent over the past twelve hours? It's as good as my life is gonna get, with what little time I have left. She doesn't know it yet, but I'm gonna ask her to bump up the morphine drip, when she comes back. All the way to the top."_ Her voice started to calm, as she reached a point of acceptance. _"I go to sleep, dreaming of her, of this other Chloe, who can still walk, and breathe without a machine, shit without a nurse having to wipe her ass. Who still has a whole life ahead of her, if she can just go out and live it!"_

Another pause, before she said, _"God, Max...sorry to do this to you. Please say yes."_

The Other Chloe managed to force her eyes open, drowning as they were with tears, snot running down her face. _"Chloe Price. You take this precious gift I'm giving back to you, and you LIVE. I don't care that Dad is gone where you are, you know damn well he'd be happy to lay down his life, if it meant that Alyssa Anderson wasn't dead anymore, and you weren't about to end it all either! He was wonderful, and we loved him, but you have to let...him...go! You have to accept it. It can't...it can't be like this. Live, fuck it! Live! Deal with whatever you think is so wrong and fucked up in your life - Max told me so little, but it doesn't matter - and you live! For both of us!"_

The girl in the video broke down into soft sobs. It went on for almost a minute, before she finally concluded, her throat tight.

" _One last thing, okay? I've had a lot of time to just sit on my ass since the accident, and think. Because of course I have. And seeing Max again, listening to everything she told me? It made me realize something. How I feel about her. What I've always felt, ever since that first day I saw her, as kids. I mean, you what she means to me. How special she is and...and maybe you feel the same way I do, Chloe. Fuck, what do I know? Maybe you don't! Maybe you're so blind, you can't even see it. But you take good care of my angel, Chloe Price. Don't you ever fucking hurt her again, or I swear I'll...I'll come back as a ghost...haunt you!"_

Other Chloe dissolved into sobs and laughter, before suddenly calling out. " _Max! Max I'm done!_ "

Another fifteen seconds passed, Other Chloe refusing to look into the camera until the video suddenly cut out.

 _What have I done?_

Chloe, the one here and now, with her blue hair and tattoos, her nihilistic punk mindset and her shitty, yet wonderful life, barely made it to the bathroom before vomiting breakfast back into the toilet. It went on that way until she had nothing left but dry heaves; and when they finally subsided, l she was left drained and shaking.

Pulling herself up from the cool tile floor, she wiped her mouth off with the back of her hand and stared hard into the mirror.

 _Stupid...stupid! Holy fuck that...that was totally shit no one's ever meant to see. Staring into the abyss and everything. And Jesus Christ! Is this what it's like to be Max, now? Day in and day out, she goes down a bunch of different paths, rewinds it back, remembers shit that no one else ever does? She has to constantly witness time the way normal people aren't supposed to! She said she saw me shot dead, and she changed time to save me, yesterday in the bathroom? That's gotta stick with her! And then I beg her to steal some weed from me, and then I make her perform for me like some fucking lab monkey. And after she tells me something that's been clearly eating her up for years, my only response was to push her to..._

She frowned, a vicious, hateful expression, staring back at her from the mirror.

"You are the absolute fucking worst, Chloe Price." she murmured, more mouthing the words than giving them actual voice. "She saves Dad, gives the two of you an extra year, but it means the government comes and takes her away. Soon as she comes back in your life, coming to _you_ because she thinks you're her best friend and you're gonna help keep her safe and shit, you exploit her. Use her."

 _I didn't want to see it. Didn't want to believe it, but here's the proof: I'm just as bad as everyone else in this shit world..._

No.

Not as bad. Not anymore.

She could change. Go down a different path.

Apologize. Beg for forgiveness. Promise Max that she's going to spend the rest of her life being the friend she deserves.

"Starting right now." she swore.

* * *

Chloe made her way down the stairs, and couldn't help but smile when she saw Max curled up on the couch, completely passed out. Kneeling down on the ground, she reached out, playing with a few errant strands of black hair.

 _You're hella-mazing, Max. You're strong, probably had to be too strong, for too many years. I don't know if you're gonna have to leave today, or tomorrow but...I've got your back. Forever._

" _But...but you take good care of my angel, Chloe Price"_

"I promise." Chloe whispered, to that Other self. The one she hoped no longer existed. Or at least found peace in the end, if she did.

Her hand was trembling again, as she reached tentatively out, placing it on Max's shoulder, and gently pushing.

"Max? Hey, Max. I just...I wanna say...are you up? Can we talk?"

The other girl roused slowly, cracking open one eye, then the other. Her initial expression was just a touch on the frowny side of neutral, but it softened slightly as she woke, then gave a warbling, "Hey."

"So...I just...I looked through everything, Max. Okay, look...no wait..please. Just let me finish..." she held up a finger, against Max's lips as her friend tried to speak. "I haven't been a friend, Max. I've been an asshole bitch. You came back into my life, and I glommed onto you, because you were the only person I had left in the world. I've been really selfish, and I am so..." she reached up, wiping at her eyes, barely keeping herself together. "...sorry. I did the absolute worst thing to you. But I saw the reasons why...I mean. You were right Max. You were right."

Chloe bowed her head and sobbed. "I miss him, Max. Oh God. Every day, in every way, it still hurts. But you let me see him, one last time. And he was just like I remembered, still as kind and loving...but he's gone now. He's dead, and I can't bring him back. Fuck, you tried, and you suffered for it, gone through torture and shit I can't imagine. Then I made you try again, and _I_ suffered for it! The Other Chloe. I know I'm not gonna be perfect every day, that there won't be times that I forget what I'm about to say but: Thank you. Thank for...for helping me see that I need to start letting my Dad go. That holding on too tight has been dragging me down."

Max smiled softly at her, and Chloe felt her heart leap at the sight. She knew there was gonna be work to do, trust to be regained, but just from that one moment, she knew that as long as she kept at it, they'd be good. Better than good.

 _You've saved my life, over and over again: literally, metaphorically. I'm gonna make it worth the price you've paid. Ha. Ha ha...yeah. No pun intended._

Max started to open up her mouth to speak, and then shifted. In a literal split second, she was sitting up on the couch.

Chloe gasped in shock, falling back onto her bottom. "Gah! The hell...Max?!"

The other girl blushed. "Sorry, Chloe! Sorry. I just had to rewind back against my own timeline from the future in a hurry, and sometimes I forget to be careful about it. Believe me, I wouldn't have done it if it wasn't totes important. Anyhow, sorry to cut into our bonding time, because believe me, I totally forgave you, and you were all sweet and grovelly. And then we made a cake, and smoked some of that weed I got and Jesus Christ! Was that...I overdid it, I think." She laughed brightly, giving a lopsided smile before she continued.

"Honestly, I'm still a tiny bit stoned. But I promise you, we talked and had all kinds of awesome, girly feelings about you and your Dad, and what you and I saw in that alternate timeline, and I'm sure when we have time, we'll do it all again in a different way, but right now? There's this girl. Kate Marsh? And in thirty minutes, she's gonna fucking die, if we don't go to Blackwell. Right now! Please, Chloe. I need your help!"

Chloe rose to her feet. Gave Max a hug, tossed off a knowing smirk. Later on, with the benefit of time, she'd appreciate, even have a bit of pride, in how quickly, easily she rolled with the punches. Never questioned what the hell was happening or why.

 _I don't have to, Max. Not with you. You had me at 'please help'. And you always will._

Chloe reached out, grabbing Max's hand, and then turned for the door.

"C'mon, BatMax. Let's burn some rubber!"

As they ran off, Chloe glanced over her shoulder briefly and smiled to herself. All she could do was stand - or in this case, run - in awe of the woman behind her. How all she ever cared about was being the hero, the real hero. The one who tries to help, and to do as much good as she can. Five years of God knows what kind of shit Max suffered at the hands of those fucking Spooks...

 _...and they never broke that shining soul of yours._

* * *

"Whoa. That...that was weird." Villanova murmured. Mostly to herself, but loud enough to be overheard.

Chen glanced over to her in the Zion monitoring room. "What, you mean weirder than what we've got now? PAN-Opticon is still going nuts here."

"It's just...I thought I saw something. A definite chronotonal spike over the Pacific Northwest. And then again, but..."

Chen smiled patiently. "Kimmy, just kick back and relax. Davies herself said we were getting nothing but ghosts and echos ever since system tried to convince me half of Kansas City suddenly Emerged earlier this morning. Until she figures out how to cut through the static or this crap finally calms down fully, we just have to accept it for what it is: nothing important." He paused, stroked his chin, and then turned to her fully. "So I was thinking, maybe I could finally convince you to have that cup of coffee with me? I mean, it's not like you have the excuse of work to fall back on this time."

Villanova looked over towards Chen, then back down at her terminal, blushing furiously.

This time though, she found the courage to say, "Okay."

* * *

 _ **A/N:**_ Hey kids, It's Black Swan Saturday! A Lyta Halifax - Corentin IV Joint, as Spike Lee used to say.

So, did you guess right? Obviously, we figured that AltChloe would end up a quadriplegic, but did you guess anything beyond that? Reader **xvector** correctly deduced that the fixed temporal data drive that Davies installed in Max's lifeclock waaaaay back in chapter 11 would come into play somehow. So whenever you see something that seems like a throwaway development...just keep that in mind ;-)

I was actually forced to take this week off from writing, but hope to get back into the swing of things next week so I can have the Tuesday arc FINALLY wrapped up. It will probably be, by and far, the longest of the "day" plot arcs in the story...talk about an eventful day!

Have a wonderful rest of the weekend!


	21. A Leap Of Faith

Max stared intently out the front window as Chloe did her best to zoom through the streets of Arcadia Bay in their desperate effort to get to Blackwell Academy; a life was at stake. No one she knew, not personally, but one she'd become heavily invested already.

"Wow Max, you really got your game face on." Chloe remarked, doing her best to straddle the line between driving dangerously irresponsible speeds and the need to not get them immediately arrested by the local cops.

Max nodded once. "Suppose so." she murmured. "Lucky thing, you already gave me the briefing on what I need to know before I jumped back. About Kate Marsh. The video she was in, the people giving her shit about it." She paused, took a deep breath, and then looked over to her friend.

"And you told me about what Nathan did to you too, Chloe. About him drugging you in his dorm room and shit, before you tried blackmailing him yesterday."

Max sat still, as Chloe's jaw tightened, her grip on the steering wheel becoming white-knuckled.

"Yeah, that fucking sicko prick. I mean, Jesus, I got myself into a bad situation. It could have gone a lot worse and I should have known better. But poor Kate. I may not go to Blackwell anymore, but the town's small enough, so people gossip, 'cause they're assholes. I don't know her all that well. She came in just as I was on my way out, but she seemed nice, you know? She's really into her whole Jesus thing, and that's fine I guess. Gotta confess, I shook my head and laughed the first time I saw the video on YouTube, thinking she was just another hypocrite, hella making out with half the jock lineup the way she did, but after another minute, it was obvious she was drugged. She didn't know what she was doing, not really. And all those Vortex Club bitches probably know exactly what happened, and they're still calling her a slut!"

Max watched as Chloe did her best to keep from gunning the engine again out of bitter frustration.

"This town is a shit-factory, Max!" Chloe exclaimed, voice dripping with bitter resentment. "So many fucked up, ugly, mean people. World would be a better without Arcadia Bay. You say a storm was gonna wipe this place off the map, five years ago?" she shook her head, and hissed out through clenched teeth, "Probably woulda done everyone a favor."

"That's easy for you to say!" Max snapped. "You never had to make the call! You seriously think you could sit there and just let it happen, if they told _you_ that you were the reason why a whole town of people was gonna be destroyed!" She groaned, rubbing at her forehead, and mewed in a soft tone, "Fuck. Sorry...didn't mean to snap like that."

"Don't be sorry. You're right, I'm being a selfish bitch. Again. Gah...shit!" She brought the car to a quick halt as the two of them came up to a police roadblock ; fortunately they weren't spotted, but there was some sort of car accident that was blocking off the road ahead, with cops re-directing traffic.

They sat there for a second, both blinking in tandem, unable to believe their bad luck.

Max was the first to speak, as the two of them stared out the window with almost identical incredulous expressions.

"I-I was having a really great time, Chloe. We were chilling, that weed was totes awesome...and...we made a cake, too. Talked about a lot of shit, catching up. And then, you finally looked at your cell phone, and it's past midnight, but all these texts are busting up, and there's Facebook shit...she's dead. She jumped off from the top of the girls dorm. Couldn't take the taunting and the shit anymore. They broke her. And she broke herself to deal with it." Max scrunched up her face and snarled, "Worst was the assholes, note the plural, that took video while it was happening. Her jumping off the roof of...I guess the girls dorm."

She swallowed against the lump in her throat, resting a hand on Chloe's leg, then turned her head and blushed. "Ummm. So I just want you to know, how important it is, why I had to wipe out what we had before. Why I have to make sure everything goes in a different direction. Because...being responsible. Saving a life. Taking all the stuff we did tonight, wadding it up into a ball and tossing it away. That's the cost; we can actually do something good in this town you hate so much. We can actually save someone's life, someone who was already dead. And...and the last five years...it'll finally mean something." By this point, Max had a burning, desperate look in her eyes.

Chloe reached down, squeezing her hand in return. "Max...damnit. I'm sorry again, about what I made you do. And there's a million things I want to say at the moment...but fuckfuckfuck! We'll never get around this accident and get to Blackwell in time now!" She reached down and smashed a fist in frustration against the steering wheel.

"Oooooh..." Max groaned, then smacked herself on the forehead. "I'm such a moron! Cammie would be giving me grief for not figuring it out sooner." She turned to the side, regarding Chloe dead on. "Okay. Here's the thing: no matter what, eventually, you and I keep driving. We make it to Blackwell. It's too late to do anything once we get there, but I can rewind time afterwards."

Chloe scrunched her face up in confusion. "Okay. So you want me to keep driving then?"

"Yes...er no. I mean...shit. Get to Blackwell, because I'm going to need a ride back, but I'm already at Blackwell too. Or I will be in a second, in a new timeline that's about to wipe out this one. The one I just mentioned, where we go to Blackwell, but we don't save Kate." Max peered at her lifeclock, committing the time to memory so she could run the rewind correctly.

Chloe breathed out. "We're getting into some seriously Donnie Darko shit here, Max. Wibbly-wobbly, timey-wimey..."

"Yeah, just do me a favor?" Max asked. "Don't freak when I disappear." She glanced down at her lifeclock and counted down. "Three, two, one..."

Max was gone; the truck creaked slightly, the air softly wooshed in to fill the void. Reality gently hurried and scurried to adjust to being roughly manhandled by Max Caulfield.

* * *

Chloe sat in the truck, allowing herself just one more minute before she made her way to the school. She hugged herself, fighting the trembling chills running up and down her spine. Under normal circumstances, she'd think it was all incredible. Marvel at the impossibility of it. But at this moment, all she could feel was sadness. Worry. For her best friend.

 _Max...how do you do this? Seriously, how do you handle this kind of power and not go absolutely insane in the fucking membrane? If I'm keeping score right, you've seriously altered the past, and then undid it. I guess you spent like a day in some alternate timeline. Then spent hours in another immediately future that's never gonna happen. Now you just disappeared thanks to a_ third _future that's also never gonna happen!_

She bit down hard on her lip, trying to pin down exactly why this was all freaking her out. Threw the truck into reverse, and slowly worked on trying to thread through her thoughts and feelings as she drove on.

 _Worried this is turning you mental, Max. Like this is somehow going to corrupt you, make you less than human. Unable to relate to people because...because how can you keep it all straight in your head? How can you keep the memories of shit that never happened straight from what's really going on?_

"Fuck." Chloe breathed out. "No wonder she's got partial amnesia. No wonder she went crazy. And that was just yesterday!"

 _You gotta try and keep her grounded, Chloe. Be her anchor. Maybe encourage her not to use her power unless it's really super-stupid important. Otherwise, she could start floating adrift, in all these different timelines. And you'd lose her. Forever._

She just wanted her friend to still be in there; her best friend, the shy, nerdy girl who was too fucking positive and optimistic for her own good. The one who saw decency in almost everyone. Who lit up the room, just by being in it. Who was happy when she made other people happy. The one who , and Chloe hated to admit that she thought this, but needed someone to watch over her. Someone to protect her.

Just a little?

 _And how can_ I _do that? I'm not even as cool as Kato to your Green Hornet. Just the loser girl driving the truck._

She gave a soft sob, leaning her head miserably against the driver side window. The voice from a time that would now never be echoed instantly in her brain.

" _...you take good care of my angel, Chloe Price."_

She swallowed hard, reaching up to wipe her face. Took a sharp, deep breath, and huffed out, "That much, I can do. Yeah."

Chloe made her way to Blackwell as quickly as she could.

* * *

 **A few minutes earlier...**

"Three, two one..." Max stared at her lifeclock for a few seconds longer, before she turned to Chloe. "All right. That should do it. Let's get to Blackwell now."

Chloe shook her head in confusion. "Wait, what? What the hell, I thought you were going to teleport!?"

Smirking, and trying not to laugh, Max answered, "Don't be silly, I can't teleport. I still have to go the long way around. But if I don't prepare the moment for when I _do_ rewind back, it's gonna confuse the hell out of you. One moment, we'll be chatting away, and the next, I'm gone, and you're freaking out for cereal, wondering what the hell is going on."

Chloe put the truck into reverse and did her best to find an alternate route.

"This...can I just say how messed up it has to be, to _be_ you? Seriously Max, I just..." Chloe shook her head. "Probably not much point in talking during the rest of the trip, huh? I mean, you're just going to wipe it all out anyhow."

Max nodded emphatically. "Yeah. Sorry. Probably doesn't seem fair. I mean, I'll remember it for both of us for the most part, but my brain has a weird way of filing stuff away from alternate timelines after a while. Like...not so much that I forget it, but it just fades off into the background. It's like I was telling you when we were making the cake? About how Cammie...shit! See, I'm still getting confused, but only because it's so fresh in my mind. Anyhow, point being, the people who studied me think my brain evolved to handle all the weird time travel shit better than your average human being ever could. Not that there's any way you could really know, but I mean woo hoo, yay me. Thanks brain, for not going completely insane by now. But don't worry, after all this shit is over, and we're back at your house and talking again, I'll repeat this whole explanation for you."

Chloe stared straight ahead. "Yeah just...I'm shutting up." She managed to last a whole minute, before piping up, "Okay, seriously, so I could confess deep, dark shit, or do something wild and crazy, and you'd never remember it?"

Max blinked. "Er...no. You totally have it in reverse. _I_ could say or do crazy shit and _you_ would never remember it, because it never happens for you. But for me, the memory of it would sort of - uh - fade off, develop different context? It's hard to explain, but it's like my brain has a separate mode, an instinct so I don't get too confused between what really happened in the ongoing subjective timeline verses everything I've ever seen or done objectively. I mean, I still get confused sometimes, but after five years, I'm not a messed up wreck either, when honestly, I should be."

She bit her tongue, and tried not to think too hard about the current gaping hole in her memory, the one from New York.

Chloe smirked. "Yeah well, I think I might still like having your power, even though I've seen - uh - seen the dark side of it. Macking on someone and then taking it back, for instance?Hella cool."

Max laughed. "Oh my God, what is it with you and that? Second time you've mentioned it today."

Chloe blushed and refused to comment further.

They eventually pulled up into the parking lot, a few minutes past the point of Kate's suicide.

Max turned to Chloe, as she reached for the door. She shyly asked, "Wish me luck?"

Laughing, Chloe shook her head. "Why the fuck do you need that? You make your own luck, SuperMax. You _are_ luck, in lady form. I mean...what...what can I possibly give you or say that'd help?" She blushed lightly, and shrugged. "You're gonna save Kate. I don't even doubt it, Max. You already saved everyone in this town once. Some of us twice, even."

Impulsively, Max leaned in, planting her lips in a hard kiss against Chloe's cheek.

"Whoa!" Chloe responded, a scarlet hue already spreading quickly across her face. "What was that about?!"

Max half giggled, a manic, lopsided smile plastered across her lips. "I...I have no idea! Just...went with whatever it...was. I mean, it was your stupid idea, so shut up!"

Quickly beating a hasty retreat, Max ran towards the girl's dorm. She felt a giddy rush driving her on, equal parts thrilled and confused.

 _Max, W. T. F? Seriously girl, what was that about?_

She'd have to file it away and process whatever new emotion was working its way through her brain later on. It was time to get her head in the game.

As she approached the quad, there were still the occasional shouts, sobs, and din of activity. School officials were trying their best to bring order to the crowd that had closed in around the broken form of Kate Marsh. Max barely knew what the girl looked like, beyond a few hazy photos and the video that Chloe showed her on her laptop, but she was damn certain she didn't want the first clear view to be of Kate's corpse.

 _You know what's at stake. Just rewind already. Take this all back, make this into something good! This is what you've wanted to do since the first day you got your power: save people. Like a real superhero._

Max wasn't sure what she was going to say to her. How she'd talk Kate down. It probably would've helped if she knew something more about her, but sneaking into the poor girl's room and rifling through her things was not only dangerous, as it would be quickly investigated by the local cops, but it just struck Max as disrespectful as well.

Even then, Max could normally get past that initial squeamishness and rewind back a bit, try and go through her effects to see if she could find some useful information before she began talking to her, but given the weird "strained" feeling she was getting from using her powers since she went back and changed the past, and then had to fix her initial mistake, she definitely felt like she'd overdone it. Given she might need to rewind several times before she figured out how to talk Kate down, she was going to have to save her powers for critical moments.

 _Okay, look, you've been trained by the Government in psychological manipulation and reading people. So...so what's suicide prevention really? It's just a form of manipulation for the right reasons! To 'manipulate' people into seeing the better side of things. That's good, yeah? Christ, that's probably a fucked up way to look at it, but the intention is good, right?_

"Okay." She whispered. "Here we go."

She could feel the same 'ache' run through her, the same resistance; whatever sort of quantum muscle that drove her power protested. It was only a few minutes back though, easy enough. All she had to do was come out of it, right at the same point she gave Chloe the warning. By her calculations, that will still give her a good four or five minutes to make her way up to the roof...

...which is why Max was shocked to discover that it was more like five or six seconds.

Her blood frozen cold in her veins, stomach clenched in horrified protest as she witnessed Kate Marsh leap to her death. She could taste how slow the time passed, before a soft but sickening thud filled the air.

 _I...I missed it! How the hell could I have screwed it up?! I've been timing this shit for years now! I'm...something's wrong with me! So wrong!_

She started to panic, caught between the need for more time to think, and hung up on the notion that she couldn't cross back against her own timeline past a certain point, lest she wipe out the explanation she gave Chloe, leaving the other girl completely confused and in the dark.

Under normal circumstances, Max could have no doubt figured it out: she had the training, and the experience. But she was quickly finding out that tests under controlled laboratory circumstances were miles apart from real world application. She'd never used her powers so hard, or so often before; combined with her lack of sleep from the many hours she put into trying to fix the and then unfix the past, she felt completely off her game. Her rapidly dissolving self confidence was only aggravated by the shock of seeing Kate die when Max expected to have far more time to handle the situation.

 _Max! Max just hold it together, you just need to do...just run over to the building and...and then you can..._

There were voices in her head. Flashes of memory she couldn't previously recall: an image of her leveling a gun at a small boy, somewhere dark and dingy. Someone was screaming in her ear, demanding she make a terrible choice, in a split second. Lives were at stake.

"... _terminate the target! Do it now!_

So many lives were at stake! She had to make a decision!

 _No! I have to save Kate! Just stop...just..._

"STOP!" she cried out.

And the world was kind enough to oblige.

Max found that she'd fallen to her hands and knees during her panic attack. As she gazed upward, she realized she'd somehow managed to rewind time as well as freeze it; Kate thankfully wasn't in midair, but it was clear she was only seconds away from making the leap.

She paled, glancing at her hand as drops of hot crimson splattered onto it. Reached up and wiped her nose.

 _Oh...oh no. Oh shit. Oh shitshitshit! I know what this is..._

It was years since Max last pushed herself to this level, to the point where her brain protested, where the headaches and the nosebleeds gave tangible warning that she was hitting her hard limit. Worse yet, she'd managed years ago to accidentally pull this trick off before: stopping the timeline completely, pulling herself out to the point where she could move about in the world. It was incredibly useful, but chances were good that when she let events play out again, she'd be unable to call upon her rewind abilities for...

 _...last time it was a day or two. Maybe I'll recover quicker now, but I'm...I'm so fucked!_

She chased back the tears of panic welling up in her eyes, and dashed towards the dorm, weaving her way skillfully through the frozen crowds. Tried not to meet the ferocious sense of terror nipping at her heels. The dread that pushed her forward towards this moment with destiny.

Not that Max had much experience running through frozen time, but it felt the same as last: like pushing through syrup. Fortunately, she could still roughly interact with her environment; open and close doors, climb up the stairs. Get to the top of the roof. She was never sure as to whether she simply took herself out of the timestream, or stopped all of reality from moving forward.

 _I guess it shouldn't matter, but the latter thought really scares the shit out of me!_

On the way to the front door of the dormitory, she passed by Chloe's stepdad. Of all the others gathered up, he was the only one who had the idea to run in and try to save Kate. Now, he was frozen in midair, making a desperate rush, despite the fact he was eternally doomed to failure.

 _Well...good for you, David! Maybe you're shitty to Chloe, but at least you gave a damn about_ this _poor girl!_

Finally, she made her way to the top of the roof. Kate was there. Dressed in a chaste sweater vest and light blue skirt, her dirty blonde hair pinned up in a large bun, she looked every bit the "Jesus freak" that Chloe described her as.

 _...maybe I can just drag her back. Away from the roof. Then knock her out. It's not pretty but it would solve the problem. I've never tried actually touching anyone while I was frozen in time before; always scared to even think about it._

Still, Max took a few footsteps towards Kate. Like fragile ice starting to crack under her weight, she could feel the flow of time slowly but surely returning; almost as if the Universe Itself sensed her intentions, wagged a warning finger at her, and said:

" _Ah ah ah, Max Caulfield. It won't be that easy."_

She quickly threw her hoodie up, better to obscure her face, and allowed time to reassert itself.

 _Maybe, just maybe I'll luck out, get a little of my rewind power back._

But as soon as time began to move forward again, she could tell that wasn't the case. Five years with her ability, and she could intuitively sense what was and wasn't happening with it. And for the moment, Max was _sans_ superpower.

She groaned, giving a soft whimper and rubbing at her nose. Barely noticing that her fingers came away a little bloody yet again. Max was too busy fighting back the titanic waves of helpless panic that threatened to overwhelm her. Though she often considered her abilities a curse as much as a gift, after five years they were as much a part of her as her sight, hearing, or ability to walk. She felt something vital was taken from her; an ability to cope with the rest of the world. For a third of her life, she was blissfully excused from having to worry about saying the wrong thing, taking the wrong action, because she _always_ had a second chance. And a third. And a sixty eighth.

But no longer; for the first time since she Emerged, Max found herself in a life or death situation where she only got one single shot. If she messed it up, and it took longer than a day for her powers to come back, that was it: Kate was dead. Permanently.

Max wanted to throw up. Scream, shout, cry. Find a proper adult to fix everything for her. She desperately wanted something, anything, other than to have this situation thrust upon her shoulders.

You _have to be the one to do this, Max! No one will get to her in time! No one else has your power. But you're more than just your ability; you have some of the finest training taxpayer money can buy! You go and you fight for this girl. You fight like the entire world depends on it!_

She ignored the burning feeling in her throat as the bile rose up, and called out, "A...are you Kate Marsh?"

"Who...who are you!" Kate demanded, turning quickly towards her. The girl speaking in a voice that was a fragile, tortured thing.

Max tried to approach, prompting the other girl to call out, "Stop! Whoever you are! Don't...don't come near me! Seriously! I _will_ jump!"

Max hugged herself through the soaked hoodie, trying to make herself seem as unthreatening as possible. She shivered, cold and wet, then held out her hands in submissive ascent.

"My...my name's Ma..."

 _Shit! Don't tell her your actual name! You're still a government fugitive, dummy!_

"Ma...ck. Mack Holden..and..." she paused, It was obvious Kate didn't believe her. After all, what the hell kind of name for a girl was that?

"Look, it's short for Michaela, alright?" Max started to explain, smoothly slipping into a new lie. "Never liked feeling that my Mom gave me a stripper name, so I...my friends call me Mack. You...can call me Mack too, okay? Just...just don't. Please? Please just step back and let's talk. Believe me, you don't want to do this!"

"Why do you care? I don't know you. Do you even go to this school?!" Kate cried out, still eyeing Max suspiciously.

Quickly shaking her head, Max said, "No! I mean...not yet. I'm supposed to transfer in at the start of the next semester. But I wanted me to look around the place, check it out, before I moved here to start the rest of my school year. Look, I...I don't really know who you are either. All I know is that I saw someone...someone clearly in pain...in desperate agony, up here, about to make a huge mistake. Because that's why you're here, right? Something about a video? And a guy who drugged you and shit. I don't know anything more than that!"

Kate stared at her; long, hard, appraisingly. But there was something else. A desperate edge. Max would almost call it hunger. Whatever it was, there was an obvious need bubbling up.

"Y-your the first...first person who actually gave a d-...who cared!" she said, with a soft, wet whimper that quickly turned to ice. "Or acted like it!" She then shook her head, refusing to budge from the ledge. "But it's too late! It's too late for me now!"

"No!" Max yelled. "God, no! Don't say that! It's never too late! Whatever shit happened to you, whatever pushed you to this, as long as you're alive and kicking, you can always keep fighting. Believe me! I know. Probably better than most."

"I don't believe you!" Kate wailed. "You don't know anything about what I've gone through. The lies people believe, about me. About that stupid video! I know you're trying to be nice. I...I'm...thank you for coming up. It makes me feel better, just a little. That in the end, _one_ person cared. But..." she shook her head, tears mingling in the rain. "You can't possibly know what I'm going through." she all but whispered.

Max took a tentative step forward, hands still held up. She was pleased to note that nothing in Kate's body language indicated that she took the action as a threat, or a reason to jump. Swallowing hard, she considered her next move. She couldn't shake the notion that this was a fulcrum point; the moment by which all the others would arise from.

 _Reach down, Max. Reach! For years, you've been taught to read these situations, read people. So what do we know about Kate? Obviously, she feels like the entire fucking world is against her. Even the one little lifeline I've thrown her is starting to make a difference. Wait, does that mean literally no one else cut her some slack? Jesus fuck, what the hell is wrong with high school kids?!_

 _Okay. She needs to know someone understands her. Feel that someone is unquestionably on her side. Chloe say she's deeply religious; probably, I mean...she's wearing a cross. And Chloe also told me that a lot of the blowback is because people think Kate's being a hypocrite, and they want to take her down a notch. I can work with that too, I think. Maybe not directly, but still..._

Max was going to have to give the performance of her life. She was going to have to touch someplace meaningful. She couldn't make up whatever was going to come out of her mouth out of whole cloth. That much was certain.

"You're wrong, Kate. I...oh God." Max feigned threatening to fall to her knees from the tension of the moment, but she didn't have to pretend much. "I'm going to share something with you, okay? Shit that I...I would never tell another living soul outside of the therapists they've sent me to. But you need to really see you're not alone. So okay...okay. Here's my story, Kate. Here's why I'm starting in the middle of the school year."

She took a deep breathe, and dredged up every emotion she could that colored the past five years. The whole experience. The betrayal, and heartache, the hopelessness, the defiance. She took the pieces that were true, and spun them into a new tale to tell. The song would be the same, she hoped. Just the lyrics would be different.

"When I was thirteen, my Dad got crazy into this wacko like...a cult thing. Sorta like Scientology, but way worse. My Mom hated it, and they got into this custody battle. So one day, my Dad picks me up from school, and he takes me away. Away from my Mom, from my friends, from everything I ever knew and loved. All the way down to this compound in Mexico, where he and his wacko buddies were hiding out."

Max again hated telling a story that impuned her parents, painting them in a bad light. She tried her best to remember that this wasn't Max Caulfield telling her tale. This was Michaela Holden, the invention serving her purpose.

"And it was bad, Kate. Okay? Really...really." She trembled, force herself to relive every shitty, degrading humiliating moment. The days Nicole would ride her ass and not let up. When Jenkowitz treated her like a freak of nature. When the guards were making passes, and Martinet lied to her. She needed her motivation and her reactions to read as authentic. They had to carry a certain ring of truth. She had to assume that Kate was almost as clever as she was, with regards to reading people.

"I was a prisoner. They wouldn't call it that, but it was true. And they...they did things, to me..." She was honestly starting to feel sick to her stomach. She could see the softening of something, right behind Kate's eyes. "For years. And I was where you were now, Kate. Only it wasn't the top of a building. It was a knife. I was so close, and I was so ready, to make the pain end. I felt like I had no escape. That no one cared about me. That I'd been abandoned."

Kate hugged herself, staring hard at Max, and asked, trying not to seem too concerned about her. "So what happened?"

 _Oh, Kate. I can see it. I can see what a good person you are. You're in such anguish. You've been driven to the point where you want to end it all, and here some girl starts to tell you a story about being abused, a victim, and I can see it in you. You care. You want to help. You want to comfort. Shit, imagine if I had the chance to stick around, and go to Blackwell. I bet...I bet we would have been awesome friends!_

Max silently damned herself for having to lie like this, but reminded herself it was for the best reason.

"I...had a moment of clarity? I told myself no one cared, but then I remembered. My Mom still cared. And I had a friend. My best friend. I knew she was missing me, and if only she knew where I was, she'd come find me. Move heaven, and hell, and bust down doors, and kick everyone's ass. She'd never stop until she found me."

Max began to cry in earnest. As her thoughts turned to Chloe...

" _Holy shit, like...like I was about to go all Xena on his ass, you know? Storm the castle and shit for you..."_

Kate wasn't moving any forward, but she didn't seem in a mood to jump either. Max moved in a little closer, relieved it didn't change the dynamic.

"I finally escaped. After five years, someone got stupid, I got lucky. I finally escaped. I ran, and I ran and I never looked back. And do you know what happened?"

Kate silently shook her head.

"I made it back home! And there she was. My friend. My shining beacon of hope. She'd been going crazy with worry. But she never gave up on me. Five years is a long time to be apart, but she was so happy to see me. Didn't have to ask her for help, she started giving it to me immediately. I was so grateful, you know? A week after I got home, I remember praying, and I said, "God. Thank you! S-so m-much!"

Max was barely holding it together herself now; she wasn't sure where her own reality ended, and her false construct began. For the moment, it didn't matter.

"I swore to Him, I literally got down on my knees and vowed...if there is _anyone_ in the world that I come across, and they need a friend...I will be that friend for them. If someone thinks there is no hope left in the world, I will give them hope! Because I remember what it was like, Kate. Some nights, I still wake up, screaming, afraid that they're going to come and...and violate me. But it's over. It's over, and I am so...damn...glad I didn't end it. That I kept fighting. Didn't lose hope."

Kate shook her head, and softly said, "I...I'm not you. I'm not that strong. I'll just...it's better this way! I'll jump, and then everyone can post up the pictures on the Internet. I mean, I'm already there forever!"

Max shook her head. "It doesn't matter! Oh God, believe me, I know it feels like it's the only thing that matters, but it doesn't. The only way they'll win is if you give up, Kate. If you take that last step. These assholes, what they did to you? They triumph. I mean, this shit is probably what they want! So here I am, Kate. Please...please take my hand?" Max was close enough now, just a couple of steps, holding out one shaky hand. "Just take it, and know that you have one friend in the world. And...and I mean...I _can't_ be the only person who cares about you, Kate. I just can't! I'm some stranger you only just met, butyou must have friends. What about your family!? Your parents?"

The look on Kate's face was difficult for Max to make out, especially through the tears and the rain. The emotions producing it were complicated.

She shook her head, "N-no...not...they don't..."

 _Okay Max, okay. Situation at home is obviously less than rosy. But the way she's acting? Chances are the conflict is coming from one parent being on her side, another...less so. Right...so...how do I figure out which one? How do I make the call. THINK Max, think! Everything could be riding on this answer. So she's religious. Maybe the father is the one judging her? But noooo. That doesn't_ have _to be it either. She looks like she could be a Daddy's Girl with a bitchy mom, too._

Max took a chance. Placed all of her chips on the table, and let it ride, In a single flip of the cosmic coin.

"Your Dad, Kate. He's the one who still has your back, isn't he? Maybe it feels like your Mom turned against you, but your Dad...he's the one who still believes you. I know it."

Kate all but crumpled, a look of utter disbelief overtaking her face, jaw literally dropping. At first, Max worried she'd made the wrong call, and was ready to jump out to try and stop her. But then...

"...how can you know that? How can you possibly!?" She sobbed, "B-but you're right. He does! He does believe me. I hurt him, and he still cares. He still loves me. How could you _know_ that?!"

 _Oh...thank you God!_

Only now could Max see how desperate and irresponsible her gamble had been. But it looked like it was going to pay off.

 _That's all that matters now._

"Kate? Please...please just step down. Take my hand? I promise, whatever the story is, whatever you need, I'm gonna help you. Okay?"

Kate met her eyes. Wild, hard, piercing.

"Are you telling me the truth. About your Dad and your friend, and what happened to you. Did that really happen?"

Max hissed through gritted teeth. "I swear it!"

And for a moment, through sheer force of will, she actually believed it herself.

It must have been enough for Kate. Slowly, but surely, she stepped off the ledge, took Max's hand, and then collapsed onto the roof.

"Sorry...I'm so sorry!" she mewled.

Max kneeled down, hugging her tight, "I know. It's okay. It's gonna be okay now, Kate. My name's Mack, and I'm your friend now. So...so hi."

Kate gave a little laugh, as she took great sobbing gulps of air. "Thank you! Thank you, Mack. I don't know what to say!"

"Don't have to say anything." Max whispered close to her ear. "Just don't let the bastards grind you down."

That prompted another weak laugh from Kate.

Suddenly the door burst open. Max wheeled around, looking behind her.

She didn't mean to run; later on, when rational thought returned, she realized what a newbie mistake it was, given Kate's delicate mental state. But she was running on nerves, emotion, and vulnerability. Bereft of her powers, and having to exhaust herself to make a convincing story for Kate to believe, she breathed out a soft. "Sorry!" and then swiftly rose to her feet and dashed off.

She acted on instinct, leaping up off the high tower, making a perfect midair roll as she did; landing on the sloped roof below the upper deck, she slid down the rain soaked shingles, somehow managing to remain upright all the while. As she came to the end, she had no choice but to leap into the air again, desperately praying she'd make it onto the top of the next building on the other side.

Time seemed to come to a halt yet again; Max was vaguely aware that it was all in her head.

She also realized that she had the biggest audience imaginable watching her.

 _Oh! Fuuuuuuuck!_

She tucked and rolled, skidding to a halt behind a chimney. And then vanished into thin air.

* * *

Chloe nervously drummed against the steering wheel of her truck. She alternated between reading the social media feeds on her phone, and glancing outside for any sign of Max.

"Shit. Shiiiiit. Max! Where the hell are you?"

The passenger door flew open, and Max barreled inside, drenched to the bone, and keeping her head totally down, out of sight."

"Drive!" she hissed. "Drive, drive, drive Chloe!"

"Damn, boss! You don't have to tell me five times!"

Chloe peeled out as quickly as she dare. She drove speedily for a few blocks before Max decided it was safe enough to sit up in her seat. She was panting, clearly having made a mad dash for the truck.

"Ho-holy shit. Max! Are you okay? God, I was getting hella worried about you. Massively freaked!"

Max shook herself out and nodded. "I'm okay! I'm okay...I think? Shit!" she stared intently at her lifeclock, and blinked. "Wow. Damnit I can't believe it. I freaked out, you know? I didn't mean to run, but when...oh shit, I think maybe it was your stepdad? He burst up here, and I ran. I got so scared, I think I jumped ahead in time. A whole hour! Never went that far into the future but..." she started to laugh.

 _And I think I can rewind again. Not more than a minute, but it's like jumping ahead sorta fixed my powers a tiny bit. Weird_.

Chloe pulled over to the side of the road. Leaned in and hugged her tight.

"Max! You did it! You saved Kate. I can't believe it! You are a hero...a...fucking superhero! SuperMax!" Chloe pulled back, her face positively beaming with pride and respect.

Max simply blinked. "I - did. Holy shit...no...wait. _We_ did it, Chloe! I couldn't have done it without you! I mean, like...literally...when I was up there, I thought of you and..." she leaned in, returning the hug, and sobbed a few times against her friend's shoulder.

In the heat of the moment, the visceral emotional intensity, her head whipped up, and their faces were close.

So close.

Max felt herself to start to lean in towards the blunette, but stopped short, with only a couple inches to spare between them.

 _Whoawhoawhoa. Max, what are you...?_

Chloe blinked, blushed, and then gave a soft laugh. "Yeah, well, I don't know about me, Max, but you already got a superhero name now." She held up her phone, letting her read through the Facebook and Twitter feeds.

"Hashtag The Blackwell Ninja? Seriously?" Max asked in an incredulous tone.

"I know, right?! Is that not the _coolest_ name? Everyone is freaking out about you, and how amazing you are! The shit you pulled off. I barely made it in time to catch _that_ part with my own eyes. And now, of course, everyone is all 'Oooh! We love you Kate! We're so glad you didn't die!' Huh. Hypocritical fucks."

Max felt her stomach sink low, a cold chill of fear running up and down her back. She opened a few of the video links some of the students had taken, showing her running away.

 _...okay Max. Chill. Just...chill the fuck out! I mean, this is super-grainy shit. Yeah. You can barely see anything, other than a shape. I mean, you can't even tell if I'm a guy or a girl in this video. Damocles isn't gonna see this, they aren't going to put two and two together. Not anytime soon._

She groaned. "Fuck. I mean, I'm glad I saved Kate. Would do it again...because Jesus Christ, those stupid kids at Blackwell!" She softly snarled. "I don't know the whole story, Chloe, but Kate Marsh seriously felt like she didn't have a single fucking friend in the world. I remember some of the shit you showed me, in what's now an alternate timeline, when Kate actually did die. People were really cruel to her, right to the very end."

 _Still. I can't help but feel like history's repeating itself. I stick my neck out. I go back in time and save someone who was otherwise going to die, and now maybe the Government is gonna find me again, because of it. I shouldn't have gotten involved! I should have just let it go! Chloe and I were having an epic night together...!_

But how the hell could she have just ignored it?

She was Max Caulfield. To do anything less?

That wasn't her. Not one little bit.

The rest of the drive home sort of blurred away in the back of Max's awareness. She couldn't help but smile softly to herself. She stole little glances at Chloe, as the other girl expounded upon her awesomeness, her bravery, her awesomeness, her self-sacrifice, her style, and most important of all, her awesomeness.

The cold pit in her stomach, and the chill in her bones turned into a softly warming flush, spreading out from her chest and suffusing the rest of her body, as she watched the light in Chloe's eyes dance, the other girl singing her praises. Max only stopped her long enough to talk about what actually happened, from her perspective, explaining the talk they had on the drive up to Blackwell, and about how her brain worked. For some reason, it seemed to set Chloe's mind at ease.

As soon as they got home, Chloe got her a towel, some old flannel pajamas, and had her lay on the bed. Pausing only to make her hot chocolate.

Collapsing into the covers, Max drowsed. It felt like she'd been up for days, which admittedly wasn't far from the truth. From her objective perspective, it'd been a day and a half or so since they went to the diner together.

Chloe flopped down next to her on the bed, just staring. Then in a sing-song voice, declared anew. "Soooo awesome!"

Max laughed, "I'm detecting a theme here, Che." She sighed and then took a long, slow pull of her hot drink. "Oh God, thank you for this. For cereal." She then groaned. "Fuck. Kinda can't get around the issue now, Chloe. Should probably leave tomorrow for sure. After everything that just happened?"

Chloe's shoulders visibly slumped, but she nodded a couple times. "I know, Max. I know but I'm gonna make your last night here the extra-best I can, okay? You just lie here, and maybe we can order some food tonight. Smoke'm that peace pipe with the weed _you_ got."

Max gave a sigh, really, truly relaxing for the first time in what felt like forever. "Sounds good, Che."

A few minutes later, she finished up the hot cocoa and put the mug to the side. When she turned back, she found Chloe standing there, cradling something in her hands.

"Max? If you're really going to head off tomorrow..." she fidgeted, shifting the weight side to side. "Then there's someone you need to take with you. I think she'll be a big help. You know, maybe not as much as meeee, but..."

She then held out an old doll; the plastic was faded, and some of the wild pink hair was missing, but Max immediately knew who it was.

"Oh my God! Jem!" she reached out, her face alive with absolute joy. "I...I can't believe you...how?!"

Chloe sat down on the side of the bed, leaning over a bit. "Yeah. When your folks moved, I guess the rest of your stuff got tossed. But Jem? Uh, a couple years ago, I went to see your parents, and they were so gone in the brain, they thought you might actually be in your bedroom. So I went up there, looking for you. You weren't there of course, but I found our mutual acquaintance. I thought maybe she needed a change of scenery. That, and..." She blushed, rubbing the back of her head as she murmured, "It was all I had left of you, really."

Max hugged the toy doll to her face, and then gazed at it, drinking in every little detail. Smiled to herself, as she recalled the reason why Jem was so special to her. Her gaze drifted over to her best friend, and for just a second, she saw her as the scrappy five year old who came to her rescue.

"I may be The Blackwell Ninja now, Chloe. But you'll always be _my_ hero." she whispered.

Chloe smiled, and then bowed her head, covering her eyes. Her expression changed into something far more pained, as she spoke in a husky voice, "Max...shit. I am...sorry. So, so, fucking sorry, about what happened today. I used you in the worst way possible. I don't even know how to explain how bad I feel, how even though you're gonna leave soon, I will never stop trying to make it up to you. I know you may not be able to forgive me, but I promise you, I so understand now how much of my life today is...is about me not being able to get over my dad dying. How I let my anger at the world, the place that took away so many people I cared about, like, warp me. I'm gonna make sure that all the bad shit you've ever gone through for me means something, Max. I don't know how, but I'm gonna turn my life around. I promise."

Smiling, Max reached over squeezing Chloe's hand tight. "I know. We had this conversation already. I'm sorry I had to take that away from you. But about your Dad... I understand why you did it. I just hope I didn't break you too badly, you know? With the videos and the pictures and..."

Chloe shook her head, emphatically. "No. No, you needed to show me that. Fuck, I'm just - my brain is still tripping out, that you could do that. I mean, shit, what other kind of technology does the Government have, Max?"

Gazing at her lifeclock, Max quietly said, "The woman who invented this? She's pretty amazing. I wish you could meet her. Camilla...I think you two would get along."

"Not if she was one of the bitches keeping you locked up, Max! I'm just as likely to punch her in the fucking face!" Chloe huffed.

Max tried not to be upset. She understood why Chloe was so pissed, and simply said, "She was one of the good ones, Che. One of the very few trying to help me. Stop the worst of it. Anyhow...uh...hope you don't mind, but I kinda need to zonk. Just for a couple hours, okay? Don't let me sleep. I don't want to miss too much of what little time we have left together, okay?"

They held hands, tightly, and looked at each other, almost as if each were afraid that they were about to permanently lose the other in the next few seconds. The moment of tension passed between them, bleeding away slowly, as Chloe rose up.

"Sure Max. Couple hours. Not a problem, it'll barely be three o'clock. Plenty of time still." She shot her a winning smile at that.

"Thanks, Chloe." Max murmured, leaning back and let her eyes close. She murmured out, "By the way? Best. Sidekick. Ever. Thank you, for giving me hope."

Chloe didn't have the chance to ask exactly what that meant. It was obvious Max had passed directly into sleep. She kneeled down, leaned in, and stroked her hair, before planting a kiss on her nose. Continued to stare devotedly, and then moved on, intending to go in one direction, but then chickening out at the last second, and planting a second kiss on the forehead.

"You rest up, Angel." she whispered.

Chloe rose up, and walked to the bedroom her arm, and looked over her shoulder at Max's soundly sleeping form.

Biting down on her lip, she tore herself away, and walked out.

* * *

 _ **A/N:**_ Hey guys, happy Black Swan Saturday! I hope you like tonight's chapter. I will admit, doing "retellings" from the game are a bit more exhausting, because it involves watching and rewatching a ton of game footage, but I also like figuring out how things would unfold differently, and why.

Two new things I am enjoying these days: Steven Universe, which is made of crystalized awesome. If Corentin were a Crystal Gem, she'd totally be Garnet.

And DC's Legends of Tomorrow, staring Rory Williams from Doctor Who (hee) as DC's version of a Time Lord, Rip Hunter. There's a neat comic book feel, and it reminds me a bit of this story in that sense.

Have a great weekend!


	22. Rage And Brownies

A few soft rays of sunlight struggled to break through the clouds, rousing Max from her nap. Sleepily, she glanced down at her lifeclock and frowned lightly.

 _Huh. Says I've been out for four hours, not two. Damn, did I unconsciously rewind to catch a few more z's? Shit! Seriously a habit I need to get out of do- wait a minute! Hey! I can rewind again! Whew!_

She was pleased to see that her powers were already returning. Still, she was in no mood to push herself anytime soon. Over the past seven subjective hours, she'd used her powers harder than she ever had before, at least outside of Zion's laboratory controlled situations. Between twelve and eighteen hours of rollbacks, plus changing the past - twice! - not to mention freezing time, as well as shooting forward into the future an hour...

Max was frankly amazed she was still alive, and that reality itself didn't seem all that worse for the wear.

 _So I still have the power to jump backwards in time through photos, and through years. Change the past, bounce back to the present. Shit. No wonder Cammie was so freaked out by it. Now that I've seen how terribly wrong it can go..._

Still, Max couldn't help but wonder how far she could ultimately push herself. Could she shoot forward hours into the future, and then take it all back? Would it let her "cheat" somehow, go even further than her twenty-four hour limit? Or could she, while she was changing the past via a photograph, find another picture, and then jump, so she was like...changing the past at the same time she was changing the past, in some weird recursive loop?

It hurt her brain to consider it all.

 _Just as well that Chloe and I are gonna have an easy night, and then..._

And then tomorrow, it was time to go.

Probably.

 _I really should get ready to run for it. The longer I stick around here, the more I'm pushing my luck._

And yet...

It was wonderful - absolutely, brain-meltingly awesome - being back in Arcadia Bay. Hanging with Chloe. She was so different now, and yet, there was still so much of her that was still the same, even with the new, darker streak.

 _Five years, and look at us. We're picking things back up, and it's like hardly any time passed at all. She still gets me. She still has her own style, and confidence, and she can be so pissy, but so sweet and adorable at the same time and..._

Max sat up, swinging her legs slowly out of the bed, so she could sit on the side. She reached up to rub at her sternum, closing her eyes and wondering at the soft, sweet ache gnawing in her chest.

She stared out the window, and wondered if she could just live in this moment for the rest of her life. Or maybe just the next few hours. Free and happy with Chloe.

Sighing hard, she scowled, bowed her head, and peevishly remarked, "It's not fucking fair."

Barely a day had gone by...or was it more like two or three for her? But she only just found her best friend again. Had adventures. Learned shit, tried new things. Hell, they even saved someone's life together! Someone who was supposed to be otherwise dead.

 _But me and Che, we stopped that. We made the world a better place. Together!_

And now she had to give that all up? Just like that?

No, it wasn't fair. And it never would be. Maybe she got more than she ever dreamed possible. Even seeing Chloe, alive and well, let alone saving her life - if what Chloe told her was accurate! - for just an hour or two would have been enough...for the Max Caulfield she'd been on Sunday night.

That was a long time ago. That was a way different person. The one who couldn't comprehend how beaten down she was, how imprisoned. Brainwashed into going along with all of Damocles' shit.

If only she could be left alone...be free!

 _That's the fucking problem with freedom, isn't it? You get a taste for it, and it becomes like air. Can't kick the habit._

Still...she _was_ free. Every day she stayed ahead of Damocles.. Every minute she lived, every breath she took without being tracked, or monitored, or caged, was one more minute of glorious liberation. One more minute for her dreams to be free, to dare to hope that she could find a way to hide for good, or maybe come to an agreement with the S.O.A.P. That maybe, just maybe...

 _...I can come back and see Chloe again. Just a little longer? And maybe we could..._

She wasn't sure what more she wanted from her best friend. But there was something, right on the tip of her tongue, on the outer edges of self-awareness. It was like being hungry, but not understanding the nature of hunger itself, or what one did to sate the need.

 _They're taking her away from me. Not directly, but making me have to keep running...they're taking her away from me. Again._

She was wasting precious moments up here, when she could be downstairs hanging out with her.

She slunk downstairs and found Chloe in the kitchen, softly screaming along with some old riot grrl band playing through a small set of Bluetooth speakers.

" _Git outta my way, or I might shove! Git outta my way, or I'm gonna shove!"_ she snarled with gusto as she put all her effort into mixing a batch of batter by hand with a wooden spoon.

"Hey hey, Che-che" Max said, raising up her hand in greeting. She then peered curiously at what the other girl was cooking up.

"What up, my ninja?" Chloe playfully replied, reaching out and smacking a high five against Max's palm.

Max snickered, shaking her head. "Was that real, or did I dream that people were calling me that?"

"Oh, you better believe it was hella real, Maxima. You wanna see? You already have a fan page on Facebook." Chloe reached out to slide her smartphone in her direction. She picked it up, and began to thumb curiously through, confirming that yes, there was a "Blackwell Ninja Is Awesome!" group, and people were already singing her praises, posting up seriously grainy footage of her leaps and jumps, not to mention messages wishing Kate well.

 _Hmmmph. Seems now Kate has all the friends she could ever want. But the truth is other than me, only David bothered to try and run up the stairs. How fucked up is that? He seems like a controlling asshole... I mean, he was just doing his job...still, he looked like he actually looked like he cared. But everyone else? They were getting their camera phones out, ready for the show. Fucking hypocrites._

She sniffed in disgust. "Don't think fame really suits me, Chloe. Especially given the risk it puts me in." She quickly changed tracks, not wanting to bring up any negatives to spoil the rest of what should be an awesome evening with her friend. "So...whatcha making? A cake?"

"Nope! I'm making..." and Chloe paused, tilting her head down, and narrowing her eyes, "Bah-rownies!"

"Brownies? Mmm! Sounds good!" Max exclaimed.

"No no no! Not Brownies, Max, bah-RAO-nies!" Chloe canted her head towards the plastic ziplock baggie filled with sticky green buds, emphasizing each syllable with a tap of her wooden spoon against the rim of the mixing bowl.

Max blinked. "Um...I'm not sure I...what?"

Chloe rolled her eyes, then her head in mock exasperation. "Pot Brownies, babe! I put the drugs, the stuff you snagged - like a ninja! - in the brownies, and then we eat the brownies ,and then the brownies make us completely chill and awesome. Awesome for like...hours. The tricky part is getting the consistency just right. You can't just throw dank bud into the mix and assume it's all gonna work out, no...this shit is like science, yo! Like chemistry! Anyhow, I figure we got another hour or two before Mom and Stepass make it home, and that'll be more than enough time to get this all taken care of. Man...we're gonna get more baked than these brownies, that's for hella sure!"

Max smirked, leaning in across the counter. "I thought they were bah-RAO-nies?"

Chloe responded by swiftly reaching out, trying to tickle her in retaliation.

"Hey! Hey stop! I still have your phone as hostage!" Max held it up in front of her, using it as a highly ineffective shield. "Don't fuck with the federal agent! I have powers...political powers!"

The phone suddenly buzzed in her hand; she didn't mean to peek at the text that came through, it happened reflexively.

 **Bitch! I know where you live. Give me back the cash you stole, or I will kill you! Your fucking girlfriend wont be able to save your ass next time.**

The text originated from an unknown number; Max didn't have to use any of the fancy cell phone network hacking that she'd been taught to figure out the obvious...

 _Nathan Prescott. You fucking prick!_

"Max! Hey! Can I have my phone please? Don't go peeking at a sistah's texts."

Resisting the urge to crush the device in her hand, she thrust it out towards Chloe, and fumed, turning away from her, a scowl etched onto her face.

Max was mad...no...more than just angry. Furious. Absolutely enraged. It's as if the air around her began to sizzle and shimmer as rational thought quickly leaked away through the narrowing tunnel of black consuming her vision...

 _She wakes up with a start, finds herself still in the cab of Chloe's trunk. Wonders at the time that's passed. Too much time; too much for bad things to happen. Damnit, she tried to warn her. Did Chloe not hear her specifically tell her to duck?_

 _Stumbling out, leaving the truck door open, she wanders towards the school, the girls bathroom. She should stick out like a sore thumb, but fails to do so, in violation of all normal rules of universal decorum. Maybe it's because everyone's too busy staring at the bathroom. The one with fresh yellow police tape stretched across the door._

 _They came quickly. The cops, that is. People, all the students, mill around as much as they dare, muttering and murmuring to each other in soft little buzzes._

" _...Nathan went crazy. Confessed and shit."_

" _...wasn't that the girl who got kicked out two years ago?"_

" _...shit! Can't believe it! Ha ha, I bet you that asshole still gets off..."_

 _No no no no no. This won't do at all. Clearly a change in narrative authority is required._

 _Wait, didn't she say that before? Will say, is saying now? Whatever, it still applies._

 _She walks towards the bathroom, smashing through the tape. She starts her rewind before anyone can react. She stops at points down the stream, here and there. Flash...Watches Nathan decompensate at his actions. Flash...Watches Chloe, her eyes still wide in fear and surprise, bleeding out, making a terrible mess over the school's nice clean tile floor._

 _She is_ not _happy! Chloe is hers, and hers and hers alone, and it's not polite to break things that belong to other people, damnit!_

 _She rewinds a little more. Chloe's corpse rises up from the tile. The bullet obligingly leaves her stomach and returns to the gun._

 _There. That'll do. Yes. Time to intercede..._

"...Max! Yoo-hoo! Don't space out me. You don't have a fucking excuse, not until you eat a brownie!"

Max blinked, the confusing cacophony of half remembered fragments of memory melting away like fresh snow in the sun.

"Jesus...fucking christ. Nathan! That asshole..."

Chloe smirked, peering down at her phone. "Oh my God, I know, right?" Her lips turned up into a full smile. "Man, that dipshit is pissed! We totally owned him!"

Max turned, narrowing her eyes. "Chloe...what?! The hell?! How can you not be pissed over him texting you threats?"

Chloe shrugged, and calmly returned to her baking. "What? This BS? Please...Nathan Prescott is a yappy little junkyard bitch."

"He _shot you!_ How can you be so...so chill about it?!" Max demanded to know.

"Uh...no he didn't. I mean, ha ha, you saw to that, right Supermax?! Besides, I thought you said you didn't remember what happened in the bathroom..."

Blinking, caught off guard, Max blushed, "I...I didn't but...I don't know. That text kinda jarred something loose."

"Look, Nathan caught me off guard. I didn't realize how dangerous he could be when pushed. But I know now. Hell, I got his gun. Maybe he's got money enough to buy another, but now? There's no way I won't see him coming if he tries again. This is just some bullshit macho dominance game. Trust me, Max. I've seen his kind...all kinds of people I've had to deal with. Assholes like Frank, and Nathan, and...and even worse! So don't worry. We're gonna have a blast tonight, right?" Her voice lowered, and she gave something mostly approximating a reassuring smile. "That's all that matters. Gotta make the most of what time you have left here."

Max stared hard at her best friend. Eyes took in every detail she could, every nuance of her body language, every hint and intimation encoded in her voice, the words she spoke, the way she carried herself. Putting the puzzle together.

 _Shit...she's putting on a brave face, I think._

But she couldn't leave it be. She couldn't just pretend like she hadn't seen what that sicko-psycho sent. What he'd done, what he was capable of...

...capable of taking away from her.

Pushing back slowly from the counter, Max smiled, unkindly. "Make the most of our time? Yeah? Huh. I got a..." She paused, waiting for the pieces to gel, the picture to form. The tactical situation to be assessed, and a solution to work it's way up into her conscience mind.

 _What does Chloe need? A way to blackmail Nathan, to at least keep him off her back for good. So where's someplace we can find dirt? Where could you get at a person's personal record?_

 _Personal...personal...permanent?_

 _Permanent record...oh shit!_

"...idea." Max drawled. "Yeah...yeah! Change of plans, Chloe. I promise, we'll totally party tonight, but I got a notion for some early evening entertainment first. For cereal."

Chloe frowned. "Ooookay...you know, as much as watching you kick Nathan's ass up and down the block again might give me a warm, gooey thrill, c'mon...we got better shit to do. He's so not worth it."

Shaking her head, Max said, "No. We won't lay a finger on him, I promise. In fact, after this, I bet you won't have to worry about him bothering you ever again. All we gotta do is pay a little visit to Blackwell. After hours. Say around seven or eight o'clock. School'll be way out by then, dark for hours already. We go in, have a look around. Specifically in the principal's office. Betcha there's some crazy shit on all the students there, especially him. And...and you know what? That situation with Kate? That is so...fucked...up! The school had to know how bad she was doing. You made it sound like Nathan all but drugged and raped her. Who knows what else he's been pulling, getting away with." Max crossed her arms.

"We gotta do this." she continued. "We break in, ransack the files. We're in, we're out. Under an hour. Tops. Promise. Then we go home, get high, and watch movies and all kinds of awesome shit. If nothing else, think of all the extra cash you can blackmail out of him if you have something juicy on him. Enough to pay off Frank."

Chloe stared at her searchingly for a good ten seconds. Took another ten to fill the brownie tin and pop it into the oven. Pursed her lips, twitched them, and then said, "So. You figure we could just break into the school, easy as that, and steal files? Shit Max, have you even ever, actually, like..." she stopped, and then smacked her forehead with the flat of her palm, jerking her head back gently. "Jesus fuck, what am I saying!? Of _course_ you have. I bet you used to break into the White House all the time for shits and giggles and go, "Hey Obama. S'up? Can I have a beer? Maybe you can tell me who really killed JFK."

Max snorted, "Yeah. And sometimes, I'd pop into Sasha's room, and we'd braid each others hair and talk about boy bands."

Chloe laughed. "Hah! So...like. Do I get to come along and help?"

Max demurred. Honestly, she wasn't initially in love with the idea. A solo op made the most sense. Less chance of being spotted. Easy in, easy out, especially when she didn't have to keep an eye out for Chloe. On the other hand...

 _...Chloe has intelligence. She knows names, people. She's lived here the past five years._

She didn't really _need_ Chloe with her for this, per se. But, she found that she actually _wanted_ to make this a two-woman operation.

 _Because...it'll...be fun! Oh God, did I actually just think that?_

Well...yeah. Of course it'd be fun.

Still, she had to tease her, just a bit.

Feigning uncertainty, but giving her a shit-eating grin, Max crossed her arms across her chest and said. "Dunno. What assets do you bring to the operation?"

Chloe paused, turning around to grab a soda for herself from the fridge. "Not much. Just my winning personality, my hella cute ass, and you know, the master keyring that the stepdouche has for the entire school." With a twirling flourish she raised her hand up to head height, and intoned, "You may now bestow upon me the highest of fives."

Max laughed and slammed her palm against Chloe's. "Holy shit! That is so perfect! Cool. So yeah, you need what, another half hour to cook the brownies? We got to make some preparations, get a few things. Kill a little time."

Chloe gave Max a questioning look. "Preparations? Shit Max, what's to prepare for? We have the fucking keys. We just drive up, unlock the door, open the door, take what we want, close the door, and said, "Fuck ya later!".

Giving her hips a severe cock to the side against the counter, Max questioned Chloe, "Yeah. You want to drive to the school. In your incredibly obvious beater of a truck that both David and all the cops in town know to look for. Right into the parking lot I imagine?"

Taking another long pull of her soda, Chloe tried to keep from appearing too sheepish, and murmured, "Something...like that. I mean, do you have a better pla-...shit, of course you do." She mock pouted, and sniffed. "I hate that you're more awesome at secret agent stuff than me. In my defense, it's only because you're actually a secret agent."

Max held out her questing hand for a sip, Chloe obligingly handed her the can. Taking a drink of her own, Max replied. "Doesn't have to be fancy. We just need to be careful. Consider the angles, possibilities where shit can go wrong. It's subtle stuff, you know. Things that are obvious in hindsight, hiding in plain sight."

"Uh huh? And how does your brilliant spy plan start?"

"Welllll." Max mused. "Why don't you grab David's keys, and we'll go from there?"

* * *

 _ **A/N:**_ Bam! In yo face, it's Black Swan Saturday! Lyta and Cory are rocking it. Bah-RAO-nies style! :-D

This was originally supposed to be a huge, 9000 word chapter. But I found I needed to A) improve readability by breaking text up and B) squeeze extra weeks out so I could have time to keep up with refilling the buffer.

Funny, how even in this alternate universe, Max seems destined to follow events down certain pre-determined paths ;-)

Anyhow, have a wonderful weekend!


	23. Teenage Wasteland

While Chloe was waiting for the brownies to bake - all the while grumbling about how much it sucked she couldn't bake them later that night - Max came up with a basic plan: They'd dress in dark, non-descript clothing, so that they'd blend in, but not stick out by the fact that they were trying to blend in.

"Okay, I know you're going to hate this, but we're gonna need to hike it a bit. There's a little rest stop area about a half-mile away from the campus...right there." Max pointed to the Google-provided satellite map pulled up on Chloe's laptop. "The woods'll give us some cover, right up to where it abuts the dorm quadrangle. Then we just walk over to the main school building. We go in, we get out. Under an hour."

"Seems too easy." Chloe couldn't help but tease.

Max shrugged. "It usually is. In any op, the best you can do is plan ahead, and be ready to shift on the fly based on what you come across. Anyhow, let's get going. I totally need to pick some shit up for tonight...and...uh...when I hit the road tomorrow."

They both gave each other the same lingering look; the bittersweet expression. They'd only just started to get into the swing of things, hanging out, and now it was coming to an end in less than twenty-four hours

"Yeah, let's not linger around...we are gonna have a hella awesome night tonight. I mean...this is just the warm up act, yeah?" Chloe asked.

* * *

The pair of them went out, and stopped by the local Goodwill and the drug store next to it. Max purchased, or rather, gave Chloe the cash to purchase for her an old military duffle bag, along with a few changes of utilitarian clothing: jeans, flannels, a coat. Everything else, save for the firearms, she was going to have to leave behind with Chloe; it was far too easy to identify her by, otherwise. A few changes of underwear, some toiletries, a flashlight, and they were set.

Forty-five minutes later, they were most of the way through their trek through the woods, nearing Blackwell Academy.

"You're right, Max." Chloe whispered. "I really do hate this bit. Hella creepy, here in the dark. Cold. Alone. And there are wolves after us, I just know it!"

Max rolled her eyes heavily. "First off, you aren't alone. Second off, this is a piece of cake compared to the survival shit they put me through. Or rather, put me and Nic...fuck it, doesn't matter. As for wolves, I'm pretty sure I read they're really rare in Oregon. But I'm sure they get a lot nicer after you take down the alpha with a killing shot between the eyes."

"Hah! Yeah, only if you brought a gun." Chloe snickered.

"Gee, if only." Max quietly replied, a tiny smirk on her face.

Chloe paused. "Wait, whoa. Did you really? Damn, that's hardcore, Max. You aren't seriously thinking we need to go into this armed, do you?"

"Force of habit." Max shrugged. "Uh. I mean, not that I've gone around a lot, armed, but...okay, shhhh...we're just about to pop out of the treeline."

They did their best to quickly make their way through the campus, keeping their head down, and blending in otherwise with the throngs of students still milling about in the aftermath of the earlier events of the day.

 _Damn, if anything it's easier to sneak through than I would have thought. Glad I put on a hat and changed hoodies though. The last thing I need is for someone to think they've spotted The Blackwell Ninja._

As the pair of them strode up to the front door of the main building, Max thought she heard an odd humming noise. It took her a few seconds for her to realize...

"Chloe...?"

"Duh de duh duh duh dah! DUh duh...oh...yeah?"

"Seriously, are you humming the theme to Mission: Impossible?"

Chloe snarfled back a laugh. "Kinda? Ha, didn't even realize I was doing it. Besides, it's not so impossible, not when you have...Chloe the Keymistress, by your side!" With that, she pulled out the keyring, unlocked the door, allowing the pair of them to slip inside. Max pulled out the tiny LED-backed flashlight, allowing them just enough light to navigate down the dark corridors as they made their way over to the Principal's Office.

"Hey, I have a question." the blunette continued. "Is it still breaking and entering if we've got the key, and I'm related to the head of Blackwell security?"

"Yeah, still counts."

"Eh, no worries. Stepshit doesn't want me in the hands of the local cops. Hell, it makes him look hella bad if it gets out I had his keys. Besides, you can always rewind us back if we get caught, right?"

Max took a deep breath. She had some of her power restored to her but... "Best not to chance it, alright?"

"Yeah. Good point. Don't worry. Between your sick spy skills, and my having the building key, this'll be a breeze. One more door, and we're in."

Max paused for a moment, resisting the urge to shine the flashlight this way and that. Her eyes feasted upon what little she could make of the school, as they passed through the front hallway, making their way to the Principal's Office.

"C'mon, you with me?" Chloe asked.

Nodding halfheartedly, she followed along. Chloe started to unlock the door to the office. Or tried to. When that key didn't work, she tried another, and then another after that. Soon, the ring was exhausted. Chloe gripped it tight in her hands, looking ready to toss it against the wall in frustration.

"What the fuck? The security officer should have the key to the Principal's Office!"

"Well well well." Max mused. "Seems like I was totally right: they're trying to hide things in this school. Bet you it's mostly shit about Nathan, and even what the hell was going on with Kate."

 _Still, locked door. Shouldn't be too hard to figure out how to..._

Chloe interrupted her train of thought, "Now we really have to get this door open." She then thumped her chest gently and announced with a hint of pride, "Believe it or not, I know a little bit about lock picking, thanks to Frank. I might as well test out my thief skill."

Max started to protest, but Chloe stopped her shot. Glancing over her shoulder, she said. "I know you probably could do this like...in your sleep? But c'mon...let me just show you how useful I can be."

Max laid a gentle hand on her shoulder, "Chloe, you don't have to..."

 _C'mon...give her a chance. You're this super-powered super-spy and she..._

She was her best friend in the whole wide world. Max didn't want to make her feel less than adequate. She wanted to give her a chance to shine.

Smiling softly, she nodded. "Sure Chloe. Go for it. Uh...just in case though, I'm going to scout around. Maybe I can find a key for the door."

Chloe smiled, immediately pouncing on the lock after fashioning a crude torsion wrench and feeler pick from a pair of large paperclips. "Awesome. And if that doesn't work?"

Max shrugged. "If absolutely everything else fails? It's a high school, with a chem lab. Easy enough to fashion a low-grade IED from whatever's around."

"Geezus, no need to get that intense, Max! Just...uh...give me another minute here." Chloe continued to fiddle with the strips of metal jutting out of the doorknob.

Max poked around the office, hoping that her luck would hold out. After a couple of minutes, she was forced to concede that if there was a key to be found, it wasn't in the secretary's office.

 _Geeze Principal Wells, fucking paranoid much? I mean, do you really think people are that desperate to break into your off - uh. Never mind._

"Fuck, I guess I wasn't paying attention when Frank was teaching me this shit. We might need to go with your bang-bang, boom-boom plan."

"Keep at it, Blue Jay! It's time for me to become one with the night, and slink through the shadows!"

Chloe struggled fiercely to keep from laughing out too loudly. "Blue Jay? What the fuck, Max? Where the hell did that come from?"

"Oh, you know. Because I'm BatMax, and you're my sidekick. But Robin doesn't work, obviously."?

Chloe shook her head as she continued with her current struggle. "Fuck, that's a lame name. I mean, I'm clearly more of a Blue Canary. Because that comes with fishnets and kung fu."

Max laughed as she strode off into the rest of the school. She made her way, briskly at first, but then slowed as she gazed over the inside of the school. She was gripped by a curious sensation, a gnawing longing right in the center of her chest. It was powerful enough to stop her in her tracks, as she aimlessly wandered about.

She smiled to herself, poking and peering at various posters lining the walls.

 _Here's one for the swim team. Here's one for tutoring. Hey! Some guys got a Dungeons and Dragons group together. And this is some sort of book club...anime and manga. Wow!_

She pressed herself back against the cool, slick metal of the lockers, and breathed in the scent of dust and chemical floor cleaner. Sighed heavily as she swept her hungry gaze over the soda machine, the classroom doors, and the poster, advertising some sort of "End Of The World" dance later this week.

Suddenly it struck her: this was the life she never had, and never would.

 _This should have been mine! All of it. I should be walking down these halls to class! I should be doing homework, and going to club meetings, and swim tryouts. And...and someone could be talking me to school dance and..._

Max nearly slammed her fist into the lockers out of frustration; only years of training kept her from making such a rookie mistake.

 _These kids. All this school shit going on in their lives right now. Seems so big, and overwhelming, and important. And they've got no idea what the hell is going on out in the real world._

Oh how she hated and loved what they had. Desperately jealous. The beautiful banality of it. It was like she couldn't help but feel the nearby presence of some other timeline, one where she lived a perfectly normal life, and spent years of of it wrapped up in this place.

She shut her eyes tight, letting a couple of tears suddenly roll down her face. Reached up and angrily wiped them away.

 _Fucking Damocles. Fucking government! Hate you all. You stole everything from me. My whole life! I can rewind time, but I can never get my past back._

It was yet another painful reminder, but one that also spurred her on.

 _I'm never going back. Not ever. And if they capture me again, I'm never gonna stop trying to escape. I fucking swear it!_

Huffing out a hard breath, she turned and headed down the hallway, stopping just long enough to get a closer look at the poster for the dance. Given by some social group called The Vortex Club, which according to Chloe, was just the rich and popular kids clique; an excuse for people like Nathan Prescott to show off his money, and how it made him untouchable.

 _Fucking asshole._

At the same time, Max couldn't help but hug herself. Closed her eyes, and smiled as she imagined what it would be like. She'd only been to a couple of middle school dances in the past, so she didn't have a lot to go by. But hanging out with kids her age, for the first time in years. Music, dancing, having fun. Boy, she and Chloe could...

She paused, not entirely certain where she was going with that line of thought, only that it made her feel curiously weak inside, but...happy too. Warm and eager. Like waiting for Christmas Day to arrive, only different. She couldn't describe it any better than that.

She continued only, easily location and then drifting through the science classroom. It took her all of thirty seconds to track down the simple chemicals she could combine to create a crude explosive; just enough to blow open the lock. Really though, it was the last thing she wanted to employ. It'd be noisy as hell, and completely violated all SOP for a mission like this. She could probably slip inside the office afterwards, rewind back, and then unlock the door from the other side, but she didn't want to risk her power suddenly giving out at an inopportune time.

 _No sweat, I'll just pick the lock for real when Chloe gives up._

Passing by the teachers desk on the way out, Max paused, noting that a bunch of graded papers were left out in a folder. Curious, she started to riffle through some of them, stopping when she came across one belonging to a student named Warren Graham.

 _Hey...I know that name! Yeah...I went to school with him. Hah, he was a science geek back then too._

She glanced over the quiz and realized

 _Wait, question three was totally right! I should know, Cammie drilled this shit into me all the time. The hell, man, teachers don't even know what they're teaching? This should be a higher grade. I mean, it'll still be a B..._

...but now it was a B-plus, thanks to a brief application of red marker.

 _Every little grade counts. Too bad Warren won't appreciate how I'm still looking out for him, all these years later._

Max decided on one more detour before making her way back to check on Chloe's progress. Picking one of the smaller classrooms, she was surprised, as well as pleased, to discover it was set up specifically for the photography arts course.

 _Huh. Look at this - all the high end gear, and photos and..._

For the briefest of moments, Max swore she was in that other life, the path not taken, some other existence without government training, or being made a prisoner. One where she was happy and free, with little more to weigh down her mind than figuring out what clothes to wear, how to fit in with the rest of the kids, or what she was going to do for her next school assignment.

As she wandered back and forth through the small, darkened classroom, she took note that most of the work hanging on the walls belonged to one person in particular. Combined with the class photos hanging on the wall, Max quickly discovered...

 _...Mark Jefferson is teaching photography at Blackwell? No fucking way...THE Mark Jefferson?!_

Max only started getting serious about studying photography a few months before her life was changed forever, but she damn well knew the name. He was one of the hottest photographers in the Northwestern grunge scene, way back in the Nineties; Max counted him as one of her personal heroes.

 _And he's here, now. Teaching. No fucking fair, life! Ah..God...I would kill, like literally, to be a student of his. I bet he's just the best teacher now!_

Her hands gripped the edge of the desk at the front of the room, the one he sat at. The one he gave lessons from. For a minute, she closed her eyes, and desperately willed, hope against hope, that her life would change, and her wish would come true...

 _...but wishes don't. Life's not fucking fair, that's just the way it is. Time to shake it off, Max. Stop acting like a...a teenager!_

Hands in her pockets, and slowly shuffling back towards the Principal's Office, Max smirked lightly to herself as she saw Chloe still desperately fiddling with the lock, a rising tide of bitter swears burbling up under her breath.

"Time's up, Grasshopper. Did you master your rage, or did your rage master you?"

Without moving her head away, Chloe stuck out a hand in Max's direction, and jammed up a huge middle finger. But she was smiling, just a bit, when she turned to look at her.

"Yeah yeah yeah. I get it. I hella suck at crime. So please, oh great spymistress, show your unworthy Padawan how it's done." Chloe said, while rising up and sweeping her arm towards the door with a dramatic flourish. "So, you gonna make the door go boom with some homemade dynamite?"

"Well, I found everything I need in the chemistry lab, but you see those sensors, here, and over there?" she pointed out a few unobtrusive looking vents. " Most folks don't even know to look for those things, which is by design. They'll go off almost immediately from the smoke, and then I imagine we'll have an alarm or worse to deal with. So yeah, let me try picking the lock first."

Grabbing the crude tools left in the keyhole, Max evaluated what she was working with, and muttered, as much for Chloe's benefit as her own.

"Huh. Looks like a Yale model A-N23. Not the cheapest lock you can get, not the best, either. But it uses this weird euro profile cylinder type, makes it a little tricky if you're trying to work with shit picks like this."

This was really her forte, or one of them at any rate. The amount of information she'd been made to memorize about different lock types, the number of times she'd practice and practice until she could do it in her sleep. Trained to be good on her own, so that if she lost access to her powers, she could still function with a high degree of skill.

It took her barely ninety seconds to pop the last tumbler and open the door.

"Not my best work, but hey, not gonna argue with results." Max remarked, removing the pick and torsion wrench before dusting off her hands.

Chloe gave her a few affectionate punches to the shoulder and side, "Ye-hah! Max Bond, supah-spy!"

"Yeah yeah, I'm fucking awesome. Now let's find what we're after and beat it. I'm still not in a mood to test my powers." Walking over to polish off the doorknob, Max instructed, "This is the part of the show where we put on the double layers of surgical gloves. I'm sure this isn't going to turn into a big police investigation, especially if we've done our work right, but the fewer clues we leave, the better."

Chloe reached into her pocket and pulled the latex gloves onto her hands. "Man...this _is_ cool. I never realized how much shit went into pulling off the perfect crime." She glanced around, pulling out her cell phone, and activating the flashlight app. Glancing around with some appreciation, she remarked, "I can see why the Principal locks this room up. Fancy faux art crap. He must want everyone to know he has money. But noooo taste."

Max glanced around the office, keeping an eye on Chloe as she made her way over to the large desk that dominated the back half of the room. Turning on a single lamp, she gazed down at a large, tacky object d'art perched near the edge.

"How can you trust somebody who had a fucking bronze bird in his office?" she asked. "I'm glad I was expelled."

"Yes! If only he had a Monet or a Picasso, you'd still be in Blackwell." Max teased in a breathy voice.

"Eat me." Chloe drawled. "Okay, I'm gonna pilfer the papers on this ugly ass desk." Max started to head over to the filing cabinet, figuring that Chloe would keep herself busy as she plopped down into the large chair.

"Okay, sure, it's ugly, but damn is it a cozy chair!" she exclaimed, kicking up her feet onto the desk. Max just shook her head and rolled her eyes, smiling lightly.

"Right, well you have fun pretending to be a respected authority figure. It's time for the actual spy to get to work."

Chloe flipped her the middle finger of her other hand this time, and went back to poking around the desk.

As luck would have it, Max didn't have to do much to find something of interest: Kate's file was already out and laid open across one of the smaller tables next to the filing cabinet. She glanced through it:

 _3.9 GPA...consistently outstanding...Meals on Wheels work, mentioned on the local news, best attendance record in school history. Jesus fuck, Kate! You rock. You are clearly too pure to live in this shitty ass world._

Unsurprisingly, there were extra notes attached: one from the school nurse indicating recent changes in her behavior after attending a Vortex Club party, and another, probably from Principal Wells himself, about an ongoing investigation into the video of Kate, being all drugged and making out with people at the party, that was then uploaded to the Internet.

 _Huh. Some investigation. School did a lousy job trying to keep her safe. Damnit Max, this is a dead end. I feel like I'm looking at the shadow of something deeper. Gotta find dirt, and given that Nathan both probably drugged Kate, definitely drugged Chloe and almost killed her...that's the prime target I need to go for._

She quickly located Nathan's file, and found much to her dismay, though not to her surprise, that it was spotless. A 3.7 GPA, Nathan was obviously one of the Precious Golden Children of Blackwell. Over the next few minutes, Max poked around a few more entries, including and especially Chloe's.

 _Damn...1.7 GPA. Suspended for spraypainting graffiti in the parking lot, belligerent. Squandered potential..._

Max sighed. She couldn't help but feel, in some strange, torturous way, she bore responsibility.

 _Like...if only I'd been around. If I could have stayed in contact with her. Given her moral support. And the occasional kick in the ass? I bet she could have been so great. Right on top, with Nathan and Kate. Once again, fuck you so much Damocles, for not only ruining my life, but the lives of the people I love the most._

"Hey Max, you better come check out these files." Chloe called out, tapping away at the keyboard hooked up to the computer on the desk.

"Hopefully it's better than what I found on Nathan, which has to be total fake shit." Max groaned.

"Oh yeah. Mr. Nathan Prescott the Third. I just found a letter in a file on the desk here. His Daddy is dropping threats and major bank to bury the real dirt, but if I were Ray Wells, I'd keep it somewhere I thought was safe, just in case I needed it for some reason."

Max started to glance over what was displayed on the computer screen.

"Shit. This reads like a rap sheet. Bad grades. Teachers complaining about his disruptive behavior..."

"Double secret probation!" Chloe semi-joked. She then frowned, shaking her head. "And *I* was the one that got expelled? Gezus fuck, the Prescotts should die in a fire."

"Wow, well at least it looks like Nathan got suspended, pending further investigation. I suppose contributing to Kate almost committing suicide was too hot for even Blackwell to just ignore." Pointing over to part of the screen, Max quickly asked, "Hey...open that note up? I want to get a better look at it."

Chloe shrugged. "Big deal. It's just some crazy drawing."

Max gave closer study of the image that was pulled up, shaking her head.

"It's not a drawing. Well, not _just_ a drawing. Look..."

It was hard to describe exactly what she was seeing. Black scribbling lines, tortured words. Mental darkness, twisted sickness given form. The same words etched into the paper, over and over again, wrapped around in a dark spiral...

"Stella in the dark room. Stella in the dark room...what the hell does that even mean?"

Chloe went white as a sheet. Blinked, clearly dumbstruck.

"Chloe?" Max asked. "Hey...you there? Talk to me. You look like you know something about this?"

"Uh...um." Chloe licked her lips, swallowed. "Stella...Stella Hill. She's a student here. Was. A few months ago, late April, not long after that bitch Rachel skipped out of town, Stella went missing too. A few days after, her body washed up on the beach. Coroner took a look, and she had serious drugs in her system. Everyone just decided right then and there that she partied too hard, took a walk on the beach high out of her mind, went for a midnight swim. People knew she was into shit, mostly Adderall to study, but that doesn't mean her tastes didn't grow. Didn't give it much thought at the time, I was going so crazy with worry over..." she frowned, hurt and frustration smoldering corrosively in her eyes, arms crossing over her chest. Then shook her head as it hit her full on. "Holy shit! Does this mean that Nathan killed Stella? I mean, he seems like he's totally freaking out about it though, in this drawing. Like maybe he can't help himself. Geezus, maybe he almost killed Kate too! Or he wanted to drive her into doing the deed herself. Man, this is hella fucked up! Seriously psychopathic shit! No wonder this asshole pulled a gun on me!"

"Huh...there's something else about David, but it looks like the file got corrupted. Talk about bad luck." Max grumped.

"Big fucking deal, stepdouche probably just looked the other way. Maybe even covered for him. Wouldn't surprise me if Wells and Nathan and David were all part of some Super He-Bros asshole club. Probably worth poking around the files he keeps in his garage sometime, just to see if there are any extra pieces of the puzzle."

"Still, you realize what this means? You got serious dirt on Nathan. I mean, you will once I print a copy." She paused, waiting a few seconds before she had Chloe print up every incriminating tidbit from Nathan's files. Then was pleased to note she didn't run into any issues as she wiped the last few seconds out with a rewind.

"-f just to see if there are any extra pieces of the puzzle" Chloe repeated.

"And now you have crazy dirt on Sir Psycho." Max smirked, holding out the file for Chloe to take.

"Yes! Booya!" Chloe hissed, making a fist of triumph in the air. "I can use this to blackmail the fuck out of Nathan. Get him to settle up the rest of my debt. Probably can't force him to confess to what he did to Stella and Kate but maybe...try and make it right somehow? Make it rain bank, pay for her college, and also pay out something to the Hills...I...don't know." She bowed her head in shame, and softly added, "Shit, anything other than getting him to own up to his crimes sounds fucking lame, doesn't it?"

Max squeezed Chloe's shoulder. "It's alright. You'll do fine. I know this must seem crazy scary, but you're gonna do the right thing. Just...it's too bad..."

Chloe nodded once. "Yeah...god damnit Max, this sucks! I know you gotta run tomorrow, I know you have to hit the road, but this...it doesn't seem right. We're a team! We should be taking Nathan down together. You and me, Maxaroni and Che, BatMax and Blue Canary." She shook her head bitterly, and Max felt her resolve waver, her instinct for self-preservation melt under Chloe's emotional intensity.

"I got bigger villains than the Prescotts in my life, Che. If you somehow get dragged into this government shit I'd just..." she swallowed against the hard knot in her throat. "Never forgive myself. Never..."

Chloe gave her a smile, a light blush coloring her cheeks. "Well, we wanted to find blackmail material, and we got it. No point in wasting any more time around here." She glanced down at herself, then smiled. "Although...I feel like we shouldn't leave without a parting gift."

Max shot her down immediately. "No, bad Chloe. Leave the cozy chair behind."

"Max, did you..uh...rewind because I just tried to steal the chair or...damnit, now I'm confused."

"Nope. Five years later, and I still know how you think, Chloe." Max tossed her a wink. "Still, maybe you're on to something." With that, Max rifled through the top drawer of the Principal's desk, stopping as she immediately hit paydirt.

It was an envelope marked "Handicapped Fund", stuffed with cash. Mostly hundreds.

 _Oh...oh bullshit! Riiiiight. You just happen to have, let's see...um...oh holy fuck! Five grand? You have five grand in cash just sitting in your desk? Wowser. Holy Embezzlement, Batman. God, are there_ any _good people running this school?!_

Chloe tried to peer at what she held in her hands. "Hey...hey Max. Don't keep me in suspense, what did you find?"

It hit her in an instant.

 _Five years. Five grand._

It was the least life could do. This fucked up world owed her, and owed her bigtime. She was torn, naturally. There was the good girl in her, the self-styled hero, that balked what she was doing; bad enough to break into the school, rifle through private records, steal confidential material. But there was the angry teen, the one with the stolen childhood. And her best friend, who desperately needed cash, after she got herself into debt apparently trying to find some trollip fake friend who didn't deserve someone as awesome and cool as Chloe.

She made her mind up right then and there, falling away at last from the angels of her better nature.

 _Stealing money from some petty crook? Watch me not lose any fucking sleep._

"Here you go, Chloe. Take this." Max said, as she removed the cash from the envelope and handed it over. She then stuffed some paper back in, to give it a bit of weight and volume. With luck, it might be days, or even weeks before Wells noticed the theft. "There's a grand in here for each of your birthdays I missed when the government was keeping me prisoner. So, you know, Happy Birthday. Now you don't even have to worry about blackmailing Nathan for money."

Chloe shot straight up to her feet and stared hard at Max. Absolutely unbelieving, until she flipped through the bills with her thumb, and then gave a hoot. "Jackpot! Oh god! I can pay back Frank tonight even! Oh...oh God. Max! Max you are just so..."

Suddenly Chloe hugged her tightly, her voice thick with emotion. "I'm gonna make it worth it, Max. Everything here. I promise, you'll see. I'm...I'm gonna pay Frank, and then I'm gonna use this file to make Nathan pay for his crimes, and whatever money is left? I'll leave Arcadia Bay at last. Start a new life, do something with it, _make_ something of myself. All..all because of you, all because you..." She blinked her eyes, reaching up to wipe them.

"Thank you, Max. Thank you. I don't deserve any of this. Any of...you."

She took her hand and practically skipped out of the office. Max slowed her down, making sure to tidy up and cover their tracks as best as possible before departing.

Chloe was humming tunelessly to herself, grinning like a maniac.

"I know that impish look." Max laughed.

"Yeeeeah. You know, we just scored. Scored hella big. And now we're free to start our crazy last night before you go on the run. So why don't we kick things off with a swim. Because you knoooow." She held up the keyring. "The Blackwell pool? It's ours!"

Max paused. "Wait. Really? We broke into this place, stole money and files, and you want to hang around to swim?"

"Yeah! Double fuck yeah! We are untouchable, Ms. Thang! Killer blackmail material, tons and tons of money in my pocket thanks to you?Life clearly loves us right now, and _wants_ us to celebrate! So c'mon! I totally wanna get my swim on right now!"

Max thought it over. Tactically, it was a terrible idea. An operation should be as simple as possible. You achieve the objective with a minimum of fuss and required effort, and then you get the hell out once you've done it. Lingering around, especially just to swim in the pool, something Max used to do all the time at Zion, was stupid beyond belief.

On the other hand...

 _Fuck it, Chloe's right. I'm starting to think the universe_ does _want us to celebrate. I mean, this is my last crazy night of fun before I have to run for the rest of my life. Why should I play it safe?_

Squeezing Chloe's hand in return, Max nodded once. "Let's do this, Chloe. It's party time."

"Yes!" Chloe cheered in triumph. "I am turning into such a good bad influence on you."

They tried their best to stifle the giggles as they ran towards the gymnasium, the whole night waiting just for the two of them.

* * *

 _ **A/N:**_ Hey hey hey kids! It's Cory and Lyta's Black Swan-themed Saturnalian Phatasmagorical Epic Revelation Time, brought to you in the spelndiferous magic of Text-o-Vision!

It's funny, the things I originally plan for, and how they change. Originally, I was going to have Max grab a special electronic lock pick kit from Cammie's apartment, and then show it off to Chloe, before giving it to her as a gift. That just seemed like too much set up for not a lot of return, and god knows I've scattered too many Chekov Guns in this work as it is. Some of which I sadly know are probably not going to get fired off, because in the time since I laid them down, I completely changed the story around and obviated the need for them. Luckily, it's not big stuff, probably things you wouldn't have even noticed in the long run.

Anyhow, have a wonderful weekend!


	24. Extracurricular Activities

The walk from the school building to the gymnasium required Chloe and Max to make their way through the campus, but it was late enough now that almost no one was around, certainly no one who thought to look twice at the pair of teenagers at a boarding school. With building keys in hand, the door was unlocked, and the pair of them strode in like they owned the place.

"Man, I can't wait to get me some of that heated water." Chloe enthused.

"Good thing I don't actually go to this school, or I'd be - I don't know - freaking out or something." Max spoke in a whinier tone of voice "'Oh Chloe, don't get me in any trouble!'"

The looked at each other, clamping hands over their mouths as they burst out laughing.

The quickly recovered, and Chloe stepped back towards the dual doors to the locker rooms., hands held up and out to the sides.

"So. Boys or girls?"

Max thought it was an odd question to ask.

 _Why would I want to look through the boys locker room?_

"Girls, of course." she replied.

Chloe gave her an impish smirk, "Oh-la-la!". Max could feel her cheeks suddenly burning. Even she wasn't so dense as to miss the not-so-subtle implication in Chloe's tone.

 _Uh, um. Yeah. It's a cute joke!_

"Let me check to see if the pool's heated." Chloe said, opening up the door to the girls locker room and making her way through.

"Hey, wait a second! We don't have any swimsuits! What do we do?" Max called out.

Chloe turned back. "If it were just me, I'd go skinny dipping! But since I know you're Miss Modesty, we'll swim in our underwear. Problem solved." And with that, she ran down until she disappeared into the pool area itself.

Max blushed furiously yet again, though she couldn't explain why. She and Chloe used to go swimming all the time in the summer when they were kids.

 _Nothing different now than back then. And you're an amazing swimmer, Max. I mean, you ought to be, given all the exercise you got in the Zion gym pool. Like there was a lot else to do._

Max wasn't in an immediate rush to join Chloe, instead choosing to dawdle a little while longer. Like in schoolhouse, she couldn't resist reading over the various after-school group posters, handouts promoting social awareness and environmental causes, and desperate pleas for missing items to be found. Ephemera of the life she so desperately craved.

 _I guess a pair of someone's favorite swim goggles or their tablet full of cat pictures means the world, when you're just a teenager who doesn't know anything else ._

Max wandered around, her natural curiosity unable to prevent her from poking into a few lockers here and there, allowing her to bear witness to the delicious banality of student life. She grabbed a couple of towels from a nearby rack and started to head back. Paused, then smirked to herself, as she thought...

 _...let's play a little prank on Chloe._

She rewound back, just a few minutes. Unlocked the locker room door from the inside, and then popped out, arms outstretched as she tossed a towel towards Chloe.

"Ta da!"

Trying her best to be completely nonchalant, Chloe snagged the towel out from midair, and started to walk past her, giving her a knowing smirk. "Dude, it's getting old! Try and dazzle me with another trick."

 _Dang. Well, I guess she_ has _seen me pull something off like that enough times to get used to it._

She briefly considered winding back, and telling Chloe to let her into the boy's locker room, but dealing with smelly gym socks and bad graffiti held no appeal for her whatsoever. She turned on a heel and instead made her way back to the pool, where she found Chloe splashing her hands through the water from the outside of the pool.

"Hey, see if you can find the lights for just the pool itself? Gotta set the mooood!" Chloe waved the other hand towards a central office in the middle back of the room, where Max easily located the breaker panel. She flipped the switches for the pool lighting, stepped out and caught a glimpse of Chloe, in nothing but her black bra and patterned briefs. She was treading water, and smiling radiantly in her direction.

"Oh yeah, baby! Feels like a hot tub!" Chloe enthused. "The perfect way to celebrate an awesome act of larceny against some corrupt asshole." Max tried to keep from gaping too much...

 _...again, not like you haven't seen Chloe in her underwear before!_

Chloe smirked, clearly amused. "Don't tell me you're going to just keep staring like a zombie." She started to splash water over at her.

"Ack!" Max cried out, stepping back. "No fair!"

"Come and stop me, spook. Are you all creepy and scarred underneath your clothes from years of super secret Government training? C'mon, I wanna see!"

Max began to disrobe. She might not have a shit-ton of self-confidence, but she damn well knew that after endless years of hardcore body sculpting in the gym, she definitely had something to show off for the effort. Stripped down to her own cheap electric blue bra and panties, she smirked and struck a pose, clearly pleased by the effect it was having on Chloe...

...who just stood there, gaping at her. Or treading water there, as the case may be. Her eyes, wide as saucers, acting as if she was seeing her for the first time.

"H-holy shit, Max! I mean I knew you got some muscles on you now, but you are ripped, girl! You are a - a total amazon!" Chloe laughed and then hooted out. "I mean, you're sporting Xena abs! Shit, I am hella jealous now!" She glanced down at herself, acting oddly self-conscious. "I mean...I'm not bad but...but no fair!"

Max struck a bodybuilder pose and said, "Oh sure. This? Was totally easy. All you have to do is a million crunches every day for five years, and you'll have your own set. Like I said, easy."

"Yeah, let me know when hard work comes in a pill form. Otherwise, pass."

Max rolled her eyes, stepped back, and then trotted towards the pool. She lept into the air, executing a perfect swan dive into the pool, the way she'd done countless times before. She quickly emerged from underneath the surface and shook the excess water from her hair, smiling blissfully. The water felt different this time. Clean. Purifying.

"Oh man. You know, I went swimming three times last week. But it never felt as awesome as it does right this second."

Because it was what she wanted to do. Something she chose entirely for herself. Sure, it was Chloe's idea, but she could have said no. She could have sat on the sidelines. Everything she did now tasted of freedom and self-determination.

"Mmmmm, welcome to my watery domain." Chloe drawled. "Duh duh - duh duh - duh duh duh." she added, invoking the theme to an old shark attack movie they'd watched years ago as kids.

Max could only roll her eyes. "Oh please, Chloe, you're talking to the girl who had to go cage diving with real sharks once. And who can easily take down four grown men in a bar fight. You think the Great White Chloe is anything for me to be afraid of?" For good measure, she splashed a handful of water at Chloe, who laughed and returned fire. Over the next minute, they splashed back and forth, like children again, lost in the carefree joy of the moment. As one, they eventually stopped, still silently smiling at each other.

At least, until Chloe's face suddenly took on a much more pensive expression. She maneuvered until she was floating on her back, staring into the ceiling. Unsure of what to do, Max followed suit, spreading out her legs and arms, buoyant in the water. Breathing deep and slow, letting a peaceful calm spread over her.

"Can't believe I'm about to say this but - uh - right before she ran off, I had this whole night planned for Rachel. I mean, what we're doing now: breaking into the gym and doing some night swimming."

"That was the girl who was your - your friend, and then she just up and ditched you?"

"Yeah." Chloe breathed. " She'd totally have loved this, being here, in the still of the night. I thought it'd be something really special, you know? The two of us but - " She shook her head a tiny bit, splashing an angrily hand about. "But you know what? Now I'm glad it didn't happen. I get to share something like this with my _best_ friend instead. My real, first best friend. I mean, you never left me Max. You got taken away, but you never left me." She glanced over, gave her a meaningful look.

A hundred questions lingered on to tip of Max's tongue. Most of all, she wanted to know more about this Rachel girl; it was obvious she was special to Chloe, once upon a time. She'd have to be a blind idiot-child not to notice.

 _I'd like to find why. What did she have that made her so great? Because whatever it was, I could be that too, Chloe. I could totally do what...whatever it was that she..."_

That strange ache in her chest returned. The nameless hunger, the one she didn't know how to satisfy.

She smiled instead, and sighed, "Her loss. And she wouldn't have appreciated it. Not like I do, at this moment." She stretched out again, losing herself in the lack of gravity, as she floated in the heated water. "Oh God, Chloe. I'm free. I really feel it. I'm finally free. And I'm never gonna let anyone take it away from me, ever again."

Chloe swam over onto her, smirking as she moved about in a lazy circle, "Don't blame you. God, Max. Seriously, I still can't imagine what it was like to be a prisoner. I mean, maybe Joyce and I drive each other crazy, but I would go hella psycho on people's asses if they did to her what happened to your folks. Sorry, sore subject, I know."

"It - it's okay, Chloe." Max whispered. "All that matters is that I'm here now, with you. That we're together, for as long as it lasts."

Chloe went back to bobbing on her back in the water, "Yeah. Still, it's too fucking bad you can't stick around. I know I joke about making the world bow down before us, but better than that, we could be BatMax and Blue Canary for real. Taking on all the shitty people in this town, making people's lives better. Make a difference, giving hope to people who actually deserve some! Like what you did for Kate!" She brightened up. "That was so amazing! I wish I could have seen it, you know? When you were talking to her. I mean, think about it! There's this girl; you didn't know her, you didn't know anything about her, other than she was feeling so tormented, she was about to kill herself. You came screaming back from the future, literally taking hours off your life, just to keep hers from ending forever. Max, if that's not superheroic then - I - I just don't know what the fuck is."

With that, she blushed and swam towards the edge.

Max fell a heat creeping into her cheeks. She smiled joyfully, and suddenly felt the urge to take off at top speed. She dove again, smoothly, swiftly making her way to the other end of the pool, before turning around and swimming back. Never coming up for air until the end.

Chloe immediately splashed her, and laughed. "Now you're just showing off! On the other hand, you got it? You should flaunt it!"

Max made her way over to Chloe's side, and propped her head up on her hands as they gripped the concrete apron.

"Yeah. That'd be nice. Arcadia Bay's Dynamic Duo, fighting back against the forces of oppression and boredom." she murmured, picking the thread of the previous conversation back up. "I guess I'll have to be more like The Hulk, now. You know, like the re-runs we used to watch, from that really old version they had in the Seventies? I mean, that's kind of romantic. On the run from an uncaring Government, possessed of incredible power, helping someone out each week before having to make a break for it.

 _Romantic...lonely too. Oh God._

She was already desperately missing Chloe, even from two feet away. Her smile. Her awesome hairstyle. Those tattoos...so cool!

 _You're going away to keep her safe. Just remember that. Keep telling yourself._

Looking away, Max continued, "On the other hand, it's probably best I keep as low a profile as possible. Not get involved. Not use my powers so much anymore. I mean, that's so weird to say, because they're a part of me. Like a leg or my sense of smell. When I was in Zion though, I felt like I'd taken them to the total peak. But it seems this whole week, ever since I started my mission, my powers keep screwing up or failing me at the worst times. Maybe this is life telling me I need to stop using them so much. I mean, shit, it's literally killing me." She turned back to Chloe and asked quietly, "What happens if it turns out I'm not as strong or as capable as people think I am? I got lucky with Kate. Really, I was fucking terrified. For the first time since my powers emerged, I couldn't take anything back. I didn't have control of that situation. What happens if someone needs my help, and I stumble? What happens if I let them down and fail?"

Chloe floated over a little closer, next to her, tilting her head to the side, and murmured, a winning smile on her lips, "You didn't stumble when you saved me from Nathan, Max."

Closing her eyes, and taking a deep, contented breath, Max sighed, "I could never fail you, Chloe. You make me feel like I actually know what the hell I'm doing right now."

"And you make me feel like there was actually a point to staying in Arcadia Bay this whole time. Like it was all about waiting for you to come back to me. You're the smartest, most talented person I've ever known. Of course you saved Kate, even without your powers. I bet there isn't anything you couldn't do. If the government fucks gave you a fair chance, you'd be their best agent, because...look at who they had to start with. You'll be great Max, a star."

"Better than Rachel Amber?" Max asked. There was a peevish tone to it, much more than she intended. She glanced away, looking embarrassed.

"Oh please!" Chloe sighed with exasperation, rolling her head along with her eyes. "Dude, I was never her groupie, even when we were still friends. Besides, forget me, what about you? I bet you had - well, there were teenage boys at your base too, right? I bet they were all trying to impress you, and get you to look their way. Probably all - " And at this, Chloe lowered her voice down, adopting a 'bro' accent, "Max. Hey Max! Check out how many squat thrusts I can do! Watch how awesome I can shoot this target! Max, Max! I can totally melt this car down with my eye lasers!"

Max immediately burst into peals of laughter, before shaking her head emphatically. "Nooooo. It was just me. Most Special's don't Emerge until later in life. I'm the youngest one ever, or so they tell me. And besides, ugh! No! Even if there _were_ boys my age hanging around the building, instead of all the creepy and gross guards and scientists, I wouldn't given them the time of day. Because I'm be way too cool for them."

"Besides," Max added. "You're way more the bro killer. 'Tats and tuuuude."

Chloe chuckled, "You did not just say that. Plus, I am not down with these Arcadia Bay hillbillies. Once you're gone Max, I am too. I can pay Frank off, and then leave this shitty little craphole forever. I just wish I was going in the same direction as you."

Max bit down on her lip and nodded, prompting a half-smile from Chloe, "Don't look so sad. I may not be there with you in person, but I'm never leaving you in spirit. Not ever. And who knows, maybe we can cross paths every now and then. You know, like a comic book team up."

Max pushed back slowly away from the edge, "Now I think I'm getting cold in here."

Chloe followed behind, her voice a bit more somber, "Because we're yapping, instead of attacking each other, otter versus shark style. Anyhow, I think I've had my pool experience for the year. Thanks Max, but let's jet."

A few minutes later, they were mostly toweled off and back in their clothes.

"Ugh, the chlorine's the worst part." Chloe grumbled. "Not to mention the damp underwear."

Max snickered. "I've been through worse. Besides, you look cute with your hair soaked in chemicals."

Chloe grinned crookedly, "I guess that goes for both of us now, Little Miss Ravenlocks."

Suddenly, a beam of light cut through the darkness, as footsteps echoed out from the far side of the room. Max immediately sprang into action, grabbing Chloe's hand and leading her out, making sure to fight the urge to panic, and keep her friend from simply bolting blindly. In short order, they were able to make their way over to the front door.

 _And that's what you call a clean getaway! Sorry Guard, if we were just normal dumb teenage kids, we might have panicked and screwed up, and you would've caught us. But you'll have to do better than that to nab Agent Caulfield._

Max nudged Chloe's side, pointing out another security guard patrolling the parking lot. "I'd just like to point out if we took your truck, we'd be totally screwed right now; they'd so know you were here. Just remember that when we're marching back through the woods for the next fifteen minutes."

As they crossed through the tree line and into the comforting embrace of darkness, Chloe hissed back, "Shit, you don't have to tell me twice. Hah, flawless victory!"

* * *

"Yes! No one's home!" Chloe called out as they made their way back into the house. "I'll bet you the stepdick was one of the guards we totally ghosted away from." Max glanced over, grabbing a note pinned to the fridge with a magnet, and holding it out to the bluenette.

"Dear Chloe, Daphne is sick, have to pick up her shift, won't be back until late. Be good, there's money on the counter for pizza for you and Max." Chloe then punched a fist up in the air. "Yes! Time to warm up the brownies and start the party right!"

An hour later, one very large pizza had been ordered and partially devoured, followed by brownies freshly reheated in the microwave.

"Okay, so just start out with one. A small one. I know they smell awesome, and dude, they are gonna taste even better, but believe me when I say you need to wait a while and see how it hits you. Especially with stuff this strong."

"Oh God, don't worry. I don't think I could eat much more after...I mean, damn, I can't believe we just destroyed almost half that pizza together."

"I doubt that other half will be sticking around by the time the munchies set in!" Chloe cackled. "Anyhow, while we wait, allow me to present you the start of tonight's entertainment!" She pulled another bootleg DVD off from her shelf and waved it around.

"Heavy Metal? Don't think I know this one."

"Nineteen eighty-one or something. Hella ancient, but pretty cool! I mean, hella bad in a lot of parts, but in a good way!"

"Well, the half-naked warrior woman with the sword and the white hair is promising." Max glanced over towards Chloe's bed, then back to the TV. Gave a mischievous smile and said, "You thinking what I'm thinking?"

Chloe blushed and rubbed the back of her head, stammering, "Whoa, uh...I'm not sure..."

"No! We should totally do it! We can build a pillow for like we used to do when we were kids."

"Oh." Chloe blinked. "I knew that." She muttered softly, before changing tracks and proclaiming, "Yes! Let Fort Awesometown rise up anew! Bigger, badder, better than before.

Between building the fort and changing clothes for the evening, they were halfway through the movie before the brownies began to kick in.

* * *

"Dunno 'bout this, dude. You are - you gotta be way more fucked up than me right now. Don't think y'know what you're doing." Chloe droned, her head floating breezily on a THC wave.

"C'mon, Chloe..." Max moaned. "I wanna do it. It's something we should have tried as soon as we got back together."

The blunette gave a soft, giddy giggle through her nose, "I know. 'Cause like, I agree. But you're hella stoned, Max, and it so doesn't feel right. I'd be taking advantage. Plus, after what happened the last time I tried, I'm feeling really - uh - gunshy."

"For cereal, we should doooo this. I wanna. I wanna do this with you. It has to be you. No regrets, I promise."

Max was kneeling on the bed in an oversized My Little Pony sweatshirt which fell just a bit off on shoulder. Cradled in her hands was William's old camera - now hers.

She explained, "So I take the picture, and in a few days, I'll zip back into myself, and tell you the lottery numbers for Powerball or something. You buy a ticket, but you can't - you can't keep it. Because Damocles would figure it out, you know? The'd suspect something was up if you won a ton of money after I escaped. So, uh, you just go and give it to someone that'll be really helped out by it. Like, oh shit, Kate! We could..." Max shook her head. "No. Too close to us now."

Chloe blinked, fighting the overwhelming urge to just peacefully zone out and stare at Max as she fumbled with the camera; she was feeling no pain. The music playing in the background was the best thing, the Christmas lights on the walls sparkled like tiny diamonds, and it felt like their awesome sleepover was going to last forever, in the best way possible. They'd already had a rather deep and intense conversation about what happened when Max changed the past on her behalf, and Chloe's slow by inexorable ascent towards coming to terms with the loss of her father, and how she'd let it define her life for the past few years.

Now they were just fucking around.

"There's ah - homeless lady. Always hanging 'round back of the diner. Betcha she could use it."

"Yesssss! This is great. This is gonna be an awesome Batmax and Blue Canary moment. The universe is gonna be good with this, because we're not trying to do anything to help ourselves. Okay, so you ready? You ready? Reeeeadeee? Be ready, damnit!" Max giggled and crawled over, wrapping a familiar arm around her, and hoisted up the camera.

"So you just click the camera, and if this works, you should be instantaneously possessed?"

"Ugh! Soooo fucky creepy when you explain it like that." Max shuddered. "But yeah!"

"So what we gonna say."

"Say?"

"Yeah doof. When you take the picture?"

"Oh!" Max brightened. "Uh...karma!"

They mugged up for the camera, making duck lips at Chloe's instance.

"Karma!" they both called out.

Chloe dissolved into giggles, unable to help herself, snorting and chortling with glee. But when she looked over at Max, the other girl had a deadly serious expression on her face. She reached over, grabbed her shoulders, and locked eyes with her, expression drenched in fear.

"Fuck! Chloe. Chloe I know you're stoned, but you have to listen to me, alright? This is really important. It's Sunday, and I'm halfway to Mexico. But everything's going wrong. They're right on my heels, and I'm scared! These guys - gonna capture me in another day or two at this rate. I need you to pay attention. Please...begging you. You're my only hope!"

Chloe's heart, already beating above the normal rate due to the cannabis in her bloodstream, was racing now. She shot up on her bed, and nodded. "Oh, oh God! What, what is it Max? Who's gonna...is it the government? Dude, please, just tell me what I need to do to help you! It's gonna be okay, I promise! We're gonna..."

She was set on the edge of panicked tears.

Max leaned in close, like she was going to whisper something in her ear, as if afraid someone was listening in on them.

"Chloe...it's - it's the aliens!" A snort of mirth broke through her stony facade. "The allllieeeens. Space Amazons! Wanna make me a love slave for their queen. Save me, Obi-Wan Canoli!" Max fell onto her back, gripping her face and howling with laughter, trying her best to keep from making noise enough to wake up David and Joyce across the hall.

A stab of intense emotion cut through her sternum. Rage, relief, anger...

"What? Fuck you, dude! I was really, really scared! Jesus, I thought I was gonna have a serious heart attack! I still might! Ah! Ah, GOD! FUCK!" She ran her fingers through her hair, and tugged at her locks in frustration.

She should have been furious. There was a part of her that wanted to break down into tears, unable to believe that her best friend toyed with her so cruelly.

But then it struck her.

"Oh my God. Aliens..."

She fell down onto the bed, next to Max, and starts to dissolve into her own spasms of laughter.

"Alieeeens! You have to say the eeeee part. Makes them extra alieeeen!"

"Space Alien Amazons!"

"Amazons!" Max repeated.

"Amazons!" They said a third time together.

"From beyooooond the moooon." Chloe added.

It was almost five minutes before they were able to stop laughing, tears running down their face. Max rolled off the bed with a whump.

"Ouch shit! I did it again! Ha ha!"

"Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, thing I'm gonna pee-hee-hee!" Chloe declared, crawling off the bed and across the floor, towards the door.

"Cwo-wee!" Max cried, reaching out, completely on her back and looking at her upside down. "Come back! Save meeeee."

"Dude, I gotta hella wiz. And I seriously need pudding cups."

"Yes! Oh shit yes! Pudding cups! The aliens won't get us if we have - oh God, do we have any more of that pizza left?"

Leaving Max to hungrily scarf down the cold remains of their extra large pizza, Chloe made her way to the bathroom, rubbing her eyes and making it to the bathroom, just in time.

 _Oh damn. Max. We're having an amazing night. Sucks you have to leave tomorrow, but...shit. You're leaving me a better person. You set me seriously right. My guardian angel. I am gonna make you so proud, when I get out of Arcadia Bay, and make something of my life at last._

She glanced down at herself and smiled as an idea immediately seized her. Something she could give Max, to make what was probably their last night together eternally memorable.

A few minutes later, she returned, tossing a pudding cup towards Max, who totally fumbled, causing the plastic container to bounce upward and bonk her gently on the forehead.

Chloe focused on eating her own, completely lost in the luscious texture, the cool chill against her tongue and teeth, the taste of chocolate spreading decadently across her tongue. She cracked an eye and smiled to herself, watching Max having a similar religious experience with butterscotch.

"Hey, so Max?"

"Hey, so Chloe? Wazzuuuuuup?"

Chloe put down her pudding cup, reached around behind her neck, and slowly lifted up her bullet necklace. Three shells, something she'd made with materials she'd picked up from an army surplus store. Crawling over, she draped it over Max's shoulders and smiled.

"For luck. So you don't forget about me, when you're running away from the aliens, and whoever.. And because it's the only meaningful thing I have left to give you. This'll never be enough for everything you've give me. Everything you've done. Because - because maybe you're convinced you can't do anything good with your powers in the long run; but you made me a better person, so don't ever doubt yourself, okay?"

Max was clearly stunned. She reached down, tracing the brass casings, stroking them with her fingertips. Blinking, swallowing hard against a forming lump in her throat. She quickly broke down into soft sobs, before flinging herself in Chloe's direction, hugging her with all her might.

She was still hugging her tight through most of Harold and Kumar Go To White Castle.

Max spent most of the movie fiddling with and staring blissfully at her new necklace, and Chloe spent most of that time staring at her friend. It was almost five in the morning by the time they were ready to crash out, losing the battle against the need to sleep.

"Hey. Chloe?" Max murmured, head resting on her shoulder, their faces close together.

"Yeah, dude?"

"Y'r my best friend, forever 'n ever. I love you."

And just like that, her eyelids fluttered closed. And she was asleep.

Chloe stared at Max. Memorizing every detail of her face, the infinitely peaceful expression on it. Gave an emotional sniffle, as it struck her that this might well be the last truly relaxed and undisturbed sleep for the rest of her life.

She enfolded Max protectively in her arms, and stared out into the darkness of her room, trembling, tears streaming down her face as she silently sobbed.

 _How am I going to live without you, Max? How the hell do I do it?_

It was clear there was a decision she'd need to make tomorrow.

* * *

 _ **A/N:**_ Hey kids, it's Black Swan Saturday. Lyta and Cory are in your Internets, making the words you read!

Can you believe it? The Tuesday arc is almost over. Whew! Not quite though, but almost! Next week brings us back to that exciting, magical, faraway kingdom known as "The B-Story". That one may or may not be the last chapter of the arc, after which, we go on hiatus for a few weeks. But there will be more details by next Saturday, for sure. I actually just finished writing the first draft of chapter 28, but we're running into some issues with chapter 26 that need to be cleaned up first; that one will either be the capstone of Tuesday, or the start of Wednesday.

And oh God! I almost forgot, we crossed the 150K milestone this weekend. I think this makes us the third longest LiS story on FFN. Neat.

Anyhow, have a great weekend, and enjoy!

P.S. Sorry, not sorry about all the teasing ;-)


	25. Just Like The Rabbits

**Monday, October 7th , 2013. 1:10pm EDT**

 **New York City**

In the dark, musty stench of a disused basement, Max finally tracked down the Emergent she'd spent all day searching for. Barely two minutes remained before the explosion - the one everyone assumed he was the cause of - went off, taking the entire city with it.

"Davies." Max whispered into her earpiece. "I found him. Jesus Christ, it's just a kid."

She held her Splasher away from the boy, then reached out a hand. "Hey...hey it's okay. It's okay. No one's going to hurt you, alright? Uh...shit, do you speak English? Where's the translation mode on this thing?"

He whimpered, crawling away from her, crying out piteously...

" _Mǔqīn!" he called out._

" **MOTHER"** flashed up on Max's HUD display.

" _Hǎo tòng! Hǎo tòng!"_ he screamed, clutching at his head.

" **IT HURTS/IS UNPLEASANT/PAINFUL"**

"Max!" Davies called out over her earpiece. I need you to knock him out! Stun him, tranq him, put him in a sleeper hold, I don't care how, but do it _now!_ "

She didn't ask questions. Max'd been trained well enough that if her commanding officer gave her a clear and direct instruction, she damn well followed it. She thumbed the Splasher, raised it up, took quick aim and fired.

The plastic membrane holding the aqueous solution ripped apart on impact, the powerful tranquilizer soaking quickly into the young boy's bloodstream. His eye's widened, and for a moment, and Max feared the worst; that in attempting to subdue him, she'd set him off, triggering the detonation.

 _Wouldn't that be something? What if my trying to stop the destruction is what caused it to happen, all along?_

Every cell in her body prepared for annihilation; her mind froze up, so convinced was she was about to meet her end. That she failed her mission, and not only would she die, but so would millions of others. All of those deaths, that she now bore personal responsibility for.

But the savage nuclear fireball never came. The boy hugged himself, shuddering, struggling to stay awake, his efforts proving futile as consciousness melted away. His breathing slowed, along with his heartbeat, as all of his vital signs fell back into a far more normal state.

Max didn't realized she'd sunk down to the floor, onto her knees, until Davies began calling out her name.

"Max? Max, report! Are you alright? I know you're there. I know you did it. Max, please report."

She glanced over to the edge of her vision, where the local time was displayed.

 **1:13pm EDT**

 _Oh...oh God. Did it. I did it. I did it!_

"I - I'm here." she cleared her throat, and then spoke up, clambering back to her feet, "Situation's been contained. Like I said, it was just some kid, from Chinatown obviously. I could turn him over onto his back, maybe see if I can get facial recognition going on him?"

"Negative" Davies replied. "Max, the situation is still risky. I need you to watch over him, but don't try to move him. There's a DHS containment van coming, in about twenty minutes. It's got supplies onboard, enough to keep him in a medical coma for as long as we need."

"Uh - do you think he's going to be okay? Is it safe? Like, is he gonna to wake up and blow things to hell?

"Hard to say. Clearly, we're charting new territory, but if I had to guess, we will probably be fine if we keep him under, and get him far away from New York City. There's a oceanic research platform in the middle of the Pacific I believe we can commandeer. We'll transport him there, and after a couple of weeks, with the flare window good and past, we'll slowly wake him up...and hope for the best."

Max nodded, feeling foolish at having done so. She didn't realize she'd been crying until the first tears rolled off her cheeks.

"Max..." Davies inquired, her voice becoming far more maternal. "Are _you_ okay? Your vitals are elevated, to put it mildly."

Her heart was still pounding, although she was focusing, working to get it to calm down, to something a bit more reasonable. Human, as opposed to humming bird.

Swallowing hard, she tried to chase the stress and fear from her voice, and said, "Yeah...I'm - I'm about as good as someone can be, sitting next to a human hydrogen bomb."

"Max...you did brilliantly. I realize for your first real field mission, we literally asked the world, or at least New York City, of you. And I'm really...I'm so proud of you. You ended up in a situation that was completely and utterly cocked up, operating solo out in the field, taking on responsibilities you weren't expecting. But you did it, Max, you came through. Flying colors and all that."

She gulped another lungful of air, brushing back the hair from her face. and hugged herself tightly, arms wrapping protectively around her body.

"C-cool. Great. Uh. Think I'm just gonna stand here, and wait until the team gets here." she said in a faraway tone.

The basement was the last place she wanted to be in. She was still on edge, still flinching with every perceived hitch in breath or shift of movement from the young boy.

 _Get a hold of yourself, girl. He's down. You're okay. You're okay, he's not going to blow up. You're okay, okay? You're not going to die, I promise. You're...you're great. You did it. You saved everyone. Like a real superhero!_

Except Max was absolutely certain neither Batman nor Wonder Woman ever felt as scared as she did now. She took a few more deep calming breaths, spending the next few minutes trying to zone out, to still her mind. It took a while, but she was relieved to feel the overwhelming sense of dread leave her body.

Until the boy suddenly gave a groan, and tried and roll over onto his back.

"D-Davies?!" Max hissed. "Uh-uh-I think - how close until they get here! He's waking up!"

"What?! Not possible. I designed that anesthetic agent myself. If anything, I was worried about the risk of - hold on. Wait a moment."

Max felt a fresh, sickening wave of adrenaline flood her body. She held up her Splasher with shaking hands, leveling it at the child.

"Bloody hell! I should have anticipated this. Technically he's Emerged now, and literally anything is possible as Reality works to try and figure out what do with with him. And right now, his body is fighting the effects of the chemicals in his bloodstream."

"Wha - wait! What happens if he wakes up? Cammie, what should I do?!" Max asked, in a fearful tone of voice.

"I need you to focus. Remember your training and stay calm. I'm tracking the containment van now. ETA is seven minutes. You just need to keep him under until they get to you. They've got much stronger agents with them, things enough to keep an entire barnyard full of raging bulls asleep for at least a week, and that's just the crude chemical options. Hit him again with the standard dose, and see what happens."

Max narrowed her eyes, doing her best to try and ignore everything that was screaming at her, reminding her that she was just a kid herself, really. Maybe she was eighteen now, but what the hell did she know? She didn't sign up for this, to track down and then stand next to something that _still_ potentially spelled death for her.

That was when she realized the terrible truth: there were worlds of difference between all the training exercises and how the real world operated.

She shot the boy, and though he passed back out into full unconsciousness again, it did little to reassure her.

"There." Davies said. "He's slipping back down. I'm sure you've got more than enough ammunition left, that even if you had to keep doing that every couple of minutes, it wouldn't be a problem at all. It's almost over, Max. I promise."

Max paced, muttering and keeping her side of the channel closed as she did.

"Keepittogether,keepittogether,keepittogether. You're fine, you're fine, you're okay, Max. What's the worst that happens? What's the worst? You rewind back, back and back and you, you tell Cammie what happened. You get all the drugs in the world. You keep this kid under. _You_ are in control Max. Act like it!"

She'd managed to successfully talk herself down from her latest panic attack, an almost overwhelming and giddy sense of relief swept over her. She did it. Her first trial by fire, worse than anyone could have expected, and she did it. Everything was going to be okay...

 _And they're gonna be so impressed with what I did. I'm a big damn hero! And maybe now, maybe now they'll finally treat me like a normal part of the team. Have the same kinda freedom like everyone else. I mean, they have to! They just have to! Look at what I did for them!_

She was so wrapped up in her train of thought that she didn't immediately notice the problem. But once she did, her fragile bravado completely shattered.

She couldn't feel her power.

A quick spot check, trying to rewind back thirty seconds confirmed the worst.

"Davies!" Max cried out. "I'm - I'm being nulled! I can't rewind!"

There was silence on the other end.

"C-Cammie?" Max squeaked.

"Sorry! Had to check on - oh. Max, I'm seeing a lot of quantum-level instability coming from the boy. There's usually some of that in the first few minutes, of course. I mean...I mean theoretically of course. To be honest, this is perhaps only the second time in history that an Emergence has ever been studied in such detail as it's happening. But it's quite likely that he's doing it to you. Unintentionally of course."

Max clawed at her arms, and then the side of her face, heart pounding hard in her chest, trying to keep herself calm.

 _Four minutes. I just have to hold out for four minutes. Right? Just gotta hold it together!_

She turned around, and found the boy, awake and sitting up, looking extremely confused.

She shrieked, wildly firing two tranq rounds into his chest. He wavered, not falling back all the way. She shot him a third time, panting hard and staring at him intently, unable to move until she he passed out anew.

"Max! What's going on!? Did you just fire on that child _three_ times?" Davies demanded.

"I - had to. He woke up. He woke up, Davies! The stuff is...it's barely working anymore. He's getting used to it, fighting it off, adapting or something and...and..."

"I've heard enough." a male voice sharply cut in. "Davies, instruct the agent to terminate the threat."

It was Martinet.

Max knew Camilla long enough to know when she was livid, even though she usually did such a good job of keeping her emotions bottled up.

"Sir! This is a breach of protocol! We have the situation contained. The boy is in a state of agitated quantum flux, but I'm no longer detecting the energetic build-up that we were seeing before he was initially incapacitated. I believe we're past the worst of it. We just need to get through the next three minutes, and the containment van will be on site. They can take over, and believe me, they have far stronger methods at their disposal.

"I've been monitoring the situation for the last half hour, and I was content to let you and your team handle this, but it's obvious that things have gotten out of hand. What happens if the target continuously adapts to all the pacification methods?" Martinet asked. "I'm not about to let - to let _it_ continue to put the city at risk. There's no need to draw this out."

Max's mouth went dry, and she could feel her awareness narrow into a thin pinprick. She felt herself withdraw into herself, the voices angrily arguing somewhere..outside of herself.

"Max! Do not kill that boy! I'm begging you. The containment team is almost there! You have to give them a cha-"

There was a burst of static.

And then only Martinet's voice remained. He spoke, a thin veneer of calm barely containing his frustration.

"Agent, you have your order. Terminate the target."

Her hand instinctively lifted the gun. The frisson of having acted mindlessly was enough to shock her mostly back to her senses.

"Sir. It's just a little kid! He's barely awake. It's - it's not...right." she protested.

But he was already stirring again, working his way out from a dose of tranquilizer that, if Max were in the proper mindset to consider the full ramifications, could have killed him already.

"Terminate the target." Martinet repeated, insistently. There was a rising edge of fear in his otherwise steely, controlling tone of voice.

"J-just give them another minute or two. Please. Van-van's almost here..."

"I'm giving you a direct order, Agent! Carry it out."

"...No." Max whimpered.

Like a switch being thrown, like a coiled spring being released, Martinet ordered, "I swear, if you disobey my direct order, you will never be let out of the base again! Do you understand me? Do you understand? I will take away what little freedom you've been given! Assuming you even survive this mission, the one you're about to fail. The one you're putting millions of lives in jeopardy over!"

Her vision whited out, and the metallic tang of panic was all she could taste on her tongue.

Max wasn't safe. She'd never be safe again.

Everything she ever wanted, her freedom, the decency to have even basic control over her life...the feeling that things were getting better, that she might be able to build a life of her own? It was all a fairytale illusion.

It was so clear to her now.

But at the moment, she was stuck in New York, torn between wanting to do the right thing, the moral, the just thing, and a desperate need to escape this crisis of survival. One which threatened to end her life in more ways than one. She wanted to be anywhere but here. But most important of all, she wanted to be home. Her real home. Arcadia Bay. With her parents. And Chloe.

 _Chloe would know what to do. Chloe would..._

There was a gunshot somewhere. It sounded so far off, hollow, and distant. It wasn't until her vision cleared that she realized where it came from.

She'd dropped the Splasher apparently, then drawn the Glock from her spine holster. She had no memory of doing it, but there was no denying it. The boy lay splayed out against the concrete, shot in the middle of his forehead; blood was pooling from the back of his head, and collecting on the oilcloth beneath him.

Martinet's voice returned over the comm link.

"Alright. That was...you did the right thing, Max. I understand that was difficult for you, but I'm glad to see you made the right choice when it counted the most." There was a long, uncomfortable silence, before he continued. "Remain where you are. You'll be collected shortly, and immediately debriefed." Another pause. "Thank you, Agent. Several million New Yorkers owe their lives to you.

Moving with slow, almost mechanical motions, she removed the earpiece and the eye-glass computer, letting them carelessly drop at her feet. Then she smoothly holstered the pistol, and kneeled down next to the slowly cooling corpse in front of her.

She stared down at the body for a minute...a day, a year. Her face was placid, insensate. Whatever roiling agony boiled away on the inside touched only her eyes.

"S-sorry." she stammed out. "Sorry." She repeated, her voice splintering into a choked sob.

She could go back. She already went back. She was going back now.

Try again. Try to...to...

" _Holy shit! Tilson, did you see that? Did that rabbit just keel over and die? What the fuck?!"_

Where was the voice coming from? Flashes...memories. Things she remembered, but couldn't remember remembering.

There was Jenkowitz, and there was Tilson and there were rabbits...alive, and then dead. Both?

Max looked down at the boy, open eyes staring upward into the ceiling, shock and surprise forever frozen on his face.

Confusion seized her mind, shredded everything into a fine powder. Where was she? What was she doing? There was something wrong. Something she'd done, something that needed to be fixed, but she couldn't understand why, or how, or...

 _Home._

She blinked. It wasn't a word, it wasn't a thought, so much as an overriding, all-powerful instinct.

 _Home._

 _Chloe._

Chloe?

Maybe? Maybe _she'd_ know what happened. What Max needed to do. She was always so smart!

But...

Oh no. She's dead now. Right now, right this instant. And she will be dead, and she was dead already. No. No no no, that's not good. That's not right. This will require a change in narrative authority.

Max blinks.

What, who was she again? Was she even real? Is she telling the story, or simply a character in it?

Max wrapped the body up in the oilcloth it was laying upon, as if enshrouding it for burial. Which will happen. Has happened. Is happening now.

"Just like the rabbits." she whispered.

Rabbits? What rabbits? There were no rabbits. No dead ones. Except that there were. And then there weren't, but really there were.

Oh dear.

Well, he meant well, certainly.

Memories, false, true, and in-between, play tug of war, with her sanity as the rope.

She doesn't understand the mistake she is about to make, and is at the same time fully cognizant of what she's doing. Too many things to do all at once, and she doesn't have time to figure it out. Except that she does.

"Just like the rabbits."

She gathers up the bundle in her arms. She can fix this. She can end this. She can...

She rewinds back. She won't stop. She'll never stop. At least, until she does.

 _Chloe?_

The impulse echos in her mind as she rewinds back past 1:10 pm. And as before, she crosses into a terrible wound, a place where time and space have been twisted beyond recognition; she shatters into a million fragments. A quantum wind gathers up the pieces and blows them out somewhere else.

* * *

 **Tuesday, October 8th, 4:35 pm**

 **New York City**

A hush had fallen over the makeshift command tent, as Camilla Davies and her team, both from Damocles and the sciences division, watched the last few 'timeline ghosts' play out.

There were six of them left when they began recording, an hour ago. Then five...four...three

They all told roughly the same tale, though some of the details were different, to be sure. Sometimes Max went for the Desert Eagle instead of the Glock. Sometimes she swapped the Splasher to kill mode, and emptied the clip into the boy. Once, she even fell upon and strangled the life out of him.

Only one echo remained. Once the last story was told, once Max rewound back, it was over.

They'd seen it all. They'd heard it all; the ghosts recreated photonic readings at all levels. Thus, not only were the visuals replayed, but so were the radio broadcasts.

It was Jenkowitz who spoke first.

"Wh-what did she say? In the end. Couldn't quite make that out.". The look on his face suggested that he had a damn good idea what the answer would be.

"Just like the rabbits." Davies intoned, ignoring the vaguely sheepish expression this produced in the overweight scientist.

 _What a bloody fucking mess! And who the hell does Martinet think he is?!_

No one spoke up at first, not until Nicole asked, "Where do we go now, bosslady?"

Davies busied herself for a few moments, transferring data from the terminal to her personal data tablet. Then turned and said, "You're in charge of the operation from here, Wright. This is going to sound strange, but I believe you should start by canvassing Chinatown, calling up police records. Ah - er...that is...look for a boy. Chinese, about eleven? Try running a facial recognition algorithm on the playback. See if there are any reports of someone matching his description suddenly disappearing or mysteriously dropping dead in the last twenty-four hours."

"No offense, _jefa_ , but what's that gonna tell us?" Rodriguez asked.

Davies smirked for a moment, sighed and answered, "It will, I believe, give us an idea of how far back in time Max went. It's a start."

Rodriguez nodded, her face suddenly going pale as she made the connection.

"If the rest of you will excuse me, I have a plane to Seattle I must catch. It seems that the Director and I have a lot to talk about."

* * *

Camilla was finishing off a lovely bit of chateaubriand, which she'd paired with a particularly nice glass of Medoc Rouge by the time Martinet contacted her after she submitted her most recent report. Chartering the private jet cost a pretty penny, but it was worth it, by her estimation, especially when she wasn't footing the bill. After the events of the past forty-eight hours, she felt she'd earned at least one nice meal before the rest of the week rose up to meet her.

It promised to be gruelling, with the potential to leave only one of them standing. Professionally, possibly otherwise.

"Davies."

"Director." Camilla took a measured sip of her wine.

"I've just gone over the video files you've sent me, along with your initial analysis. I'd appreciate it if you walked me through the final minutes of the final...how did you put it? Ghost?"

"Virtual photonic quantum echo phenomena. Yes. And with all due respect, I thought my report should have explained it all in laborious detail."

Martinet didn't immediately rise up to her bait, his tone still calm, albeit tight. "Why don't you give it your personal spin. In terms a layman can understand."

"Are you giving me leave to speak freely, then?"

"...I wouldn't have it any other way."

Camilla suppressed a snort, "I'd think the video would be worth several thousand words, Director. The situation was initially contained. It ran into some complications, but you forcibly injected yourself into the matter..."

"I have every right to get personally involved in an operation if I so chose..." he interrupted testily.

"Oh yes! Of course you do! Never mind the fact that it is a horrible breach of working protocol. Honestly, Paul, I know you and I just barely get along, but never have you shown such blatant disrespect for me, for my abilities, and for my team! If you have so little faith in my abilities, you should have asked me to tender my resignation well before today!"

The line went silent for a few seconds, before Marinet responded, "Don't you think you're taking this far too personally? We're talking about a...an alternate timeline. You have no way of knowing that this is what happened. How events played out."

"No sir, not one-hundred percent, but given what I do know, what the sensors have told us, I'm willing to make a damn-well-educated guess!"

"I hardly think..."

"You cut me off from a member of my team, under my direct command!" Davies shot back. "You took a girl that I repeatedly and officially warned you was an ill-fit for field duty on a psychological level. I begged you to let her seek some therapy, have time to adjust! Honestly, not everyone in the world is equipped for this line of work! But you just _had_ to push it, didn't you? And yet despite all that, she exceeded everyone's expectations. She saved the day. But we asked too much...and you demanded far more!"

"You were letting the situation get out of hand! If what I've seen is true, then I _clearly_ made the right call. If this boy was actually the cause of a nuclear holocaust destroying New York City in a previous timeline, then...then I would have pulled the trigger myself!"

"Oh how courageous of you! Instead you mentally abused and blackmailed the young girl you've been tormenting for the past half decade into doing it on your behalf!" Camilla spat out.

"And I'd do it again!" Marinet fell silent, before continuing. "Alright. Perhaps I resorted to extreme measures, but damnit, Camilla! You made a bad call! Trying to save the boy. Putting millions of lives needlessly at risk!"

"You weren't there!" she quietly roared. "You didn't have full recognizance of the situation, you didn't have real time access to the data feeds that I did! You panicked, Paul! You panicked, and you used Max to carry out your fear-driven agenda. And now we've got a young woman who never should have been given a clean bill of mental health and shoved out into the field in an obvious fugue state, and out there...scared, alone. God knows where."

She tried to tamp down her anger, when her thoughts turned to Reese. He couldn't have known that somehow, he left a ticking mental time bomb that would go off like this. At least, that was the best theory Camilla was able to come up with. That the manipulation of her memories created a minor mental instability, a catalyst to trigger the rest of the chain reaction.

 _How could he have foreseen this situation? God knows, he'd tormented himself enough over what he'd done._

And in the strangest of ways, it might have potentially done them all a favor.

Martinet sounded as if he were speaking through gritted teeth. "Well, I see you've provided a copy of the report to the audit team, who are already on the base and going through the records. After the near disastrous end of _this_ mission, it seems I'm justified in having your fitness to continue on as Head of Operations re-evaluated."

"Certainly, Director." Camilla said, her voice immediately chill. "And now, perhaps _my_ fitness isn't the only thing they'll be evaluating."

"Oh please!" he burst out. "If anything, I expect I'll be receiving a commendation for salvaging the situation!" He immediately shifted tracks. "At any rate, this'll soon be resolved. An hour ago, we received visual confirmation of Agent Caulfield attempting to cross the Canadian border. She was acting...strange enough to draw attention to herself, but still managed to slip away. She must have succeeded somehow, because she just attempted to withdraw cash from an ATM in Trois-Rivieres in Quebec. I'm already in communication with the RCMP. The Harper Administration has been extremely cooperative in the past, so I can't imagine we'll have trouble getting permission to go in after her. I've sent Wright and her team out already. It won't be long now before we have our rogue agent in custody."

"So it would appear." Camilla drawled. "I'll be back at HQ in less than eight hours. I imagine the remainder of the week should be both exciting and eventful all of us."

"Yes. Report to me personally when you arrive. Martinet out." He said, with a peevish edge in his voice before cutting the channel.

Leaning back and swirling the wine in her goblet, Camilla mused to herself, as she considered the news about Max.

 _Curious. Seems sloppy, even for her. She was trained a damn sight better than that, I should know. Either she's gone completely barmy, acting mostly on instinct or..._

She smirked to herself. She may not know exactly where Max was - God knows she had some ideas - but she was fairly certain that the girl was nowhere near Quebec.

 _What are you playing at now, Shimiko?_

* * *

 ** _A/N:_** Hey! It's Black Swan Saturday, and holy crap. I don't know about you, but that seemed like a loooong week.

So I warned you last week that this might be the final chapter of the arc, and yup. It is. Upon further reflection, it feels like chapter 26 is more of an arc opener, and less an arc ender, soooo...I'm afraid this is the point where I tell you all that after eight weeks of flawless publishing, we're taking a six week "mid season hiatus". I need a break, Cory needs a break, I'm only two chapters written into the Wednesday arc. Definitely need time to rest and then write. However, I do not think that any arc is going to be as long as Tuesday. I mean wow, what an eventful day that was, right? I'm anticipating that Wednesday might only be five chapters long (although I'm _always_ saying shit like that, I'm always underestimating the word counts *laugh*) and Thursday will be certainly no longer than that, either. I mean, it's funny, I figure we're more than halfway done through the story, but we might not be wrapped up until July or August.

Anyhow, I hope you don't forget us while we're away, and come back on April 2nd. Something tells me that Wednesday might be the day all the Chloe and Max les yay finally comes to it's obvious peak :-D

A couple of quick recommendations before I wrap up for a while:

1) If you have Hulu, definitely check out 11.22.63. James Franco is surprisingly underrated as an actor, and it's one of the few Steven King novels that I've read in full. I'm glad they are doing it as an 8 part mini series, and not trying to rush it as a movie. The book was definitely one of the biggest influences, along with The Butterfly Effect and Donnie Darko, in shaping what I've written with Black Swan. Although my portrayal of the nature of time is not nearly as creepy and menacing as King's.

2) My OTHER writing-sistah-from-another-mistah, **NuQueerWarhead _,_** recently put out a story called **The Precious Gifts I Refuse to Regret,** which is the sequel to her original awesome piece, which takes place from the POV of AltMaxine, as she struggles to come to terms with AltChloe, her condition, and their feelings for each other. She does some things quite unlike anything I've seen done in this fandom, and you owe it to yourself to check it out. Also, she is pretty much the Godmother of Black Swan, having patiently listened to my initial - and initially quite different! - pitch for the story and told me what worked and what didn't.

Have a great one, guys!


	26. Regarding Kronos

**Tuesday, 6:05pm, Hawaii-Aleutian Time**

 **The Big Island.**

 _Now this is the life._

Rachel Amber sipped drowsily at her oversized cocktail, complete with umbrella and fruit garnish, served in a coconut shell as the skilled hands of a young Hawaiian woman worked out the knots in muscles she didn't even know she had.

For what seemed like the eighth time this week - and it was only Tuesday evening! - she reveled in how swiftly her fortunes shifted in a mere six months. April started with her frenzied flight from the country after nearly being captured by agents the Krashne Zmei - an old Soviet holdover that still administered government Specials operations within Russia and most of the Commonwealth of Independent States. The rest of the spring flew by as what was left of the Prometheus Institute struggled for survival, playing cat-and-mouse games of attrition with the Russians; by the end of it, she and two others were all that were left of P.I. K.Z., on the other hand, essentially suffered a complete asset loss, at least of the things that mattered most; they'd be rebuilding for years.

 _Stupid, stupid assholes!_

Rachel still couldn't believe that after all the years the Prometheus Institute managed to successfully avoid falling prey to groups like the US Specials Oversight and Administration Project - including and especially their fucking fascist stormtroopers, the Damocles Initiative - it was the Russians who managed to take them all down in the end.

 _They totally lucked out. Had to have been it. They were fucking desperate though._

The stupid little war China picked with powerful inter-dimensional entities ultimately spilled out into much of East Asia. Red Sun in Japan skillfully deflected the few invasion attempts mounted by the Sh'iguth'cthulin, who then chose instead to start tearing new holes out of Korea and Siberia. While the horrors inadvertently unleashed by the Chinese were eventually beaten back - with the public none the wiser - Krashne Zmei was left at barely a quarter of its strength, with orders to acquire new talent wherever it could.

 _And so they managed to snatch up a couple of losers here and there...like those kids calling themselves the Lightning League, and the Diamond Shards in Thailand. I guess they figured a bunch of stupid Utopian dreamers on the American West Coast would be easy pickings._

Rachel took another long slurp of her drink and mused,

 _Irony is really damn...ironic...aw shit, this stuff is strong!_

By the time the dust settled, and Rachel was able to catch her breath, it was clear that the Prometheus Institute was effectively dead; on the other hand, the Russians were no longer a credible threat, and no one else seemed aware of her existence either, at least no one hostile. Deciding that strength in numbers was preferable to potentially being picked off one by one, Rachel came up with the clever - and incredibly desperate - idea to reorganize the tiny handful of remaining Prometheus Specials as 'independent contractors'. The group bore no actual name, though she jokingly referred to them as "Amber's Angels".

In the beginning, she was absolutely convinced the entire hare-brained scheme was doomed to quickly fail, borne as it was from lack of any other reasonable ideas. But she was pleasantly surprised to discover that there were any number of corporations, private security firms, and corrupt third world governments more than happy to hire themselves a little superhuman muscle. Her's wasn't even the only group in the world that offered this sort of service; certainly it was the smallest - herself and three others - but not by a lot.

Their first hastily assembled job - "convincing" a US Senator to change their vote on a key piece of legislation - was an unqualified success, earning them operating capital, reputation, and a political favor or two. By the time September started, they'd had a busy summer, scoring far more hits than misses, and the group agreed this new business was the way to go. In between jobs, they did their best to try and build perfectly normal seeming lives for themselves.

Rachel was glad for the slowdown; up to now, she'd been running the whole group by the seat of her pants, fueled as much - if not more - by sheer, stupid luck as it was competency. Already, they'd come close to being detained by Interpol and the FBI, and she almost made a few stupid mistakes with the money she'd earned before finding someone relatively trustworthy to launder it for her.

 _Just gotta make sure we stay below the radar, is all. We can do it, and we can be great at it, long as we don't get too visible._

Over the last month, everyone was taking things easy; the group needed time to rest and recover, come to grips with their losses: friends, family, colleagues. The plan was to lay low until at least the end of the year, although Rachel was still brokering one or two easy jobs a month. The rest of her time was spent gallivanting across the globe, enjoying the jet-set lifestyle her new-found wealth provided. Just enough money to make life fun and interesting, but not so wealthy that she was wandering around in the rarefied air of the global elite; that arrangement suited her.

For now, she was chilling on the Big Island of Hawai'i, having procured a week long pass to a classy spa resort. Not the fanciest place on Earth, but certainly the tops in Hawaii. The staff were ridiculously accommodating and attentive, allowing Rachel to make the most of her vacation; swimming, driving, maybe a little jet skiing. Nothing too crazy, but God knows she earned her downtime.

"Freshen that drink for you, Aegis?" a male voice suddenly asked.

"Mmmm? Yeah, sure, that..."

She startled, shooting up from the table, and then scrambling to cover herself with a towel. Whomever this person was, he addressed her by her old P.I. code name, one she was never fond of.

 _But damn if Doctor P didn't loooove that kind of shit._

"Geezus dude, personal boundaries." she snarled. Quickly, Rachel appraised her options and struggled to push back the tightening knot of fear building up in her stomach. She was unarmed, having left her gun in the room, because one sure as hell didn't open carry in a fancy, private resort. Clearly she'd been made, so trying to deny who was actually was insulting to them both.

That left the best course of action being to hear the guy out and see what he wanted. There might be a chance she could turn things to her advantage, and she definitely had no qualms about using her natural charms and allure to her benefit. It helped that he wasn't bad looking...not bad at all; Rachel usually preferred women, but she'd been known to have a bit of fun with the right man. He was in his mid to late thirties, with dark hair. Certainly older than she liked, but he obviously worked on his body; not exactly rock hard and chiseled, but he kept himself in good shape. Really good. Like he'd seen his fair share of action in the past.

"Apologies for spooking you, especially at this ah - heh - vulnerable moment. First, and foremost, the people I represent sincerely hope you've been enjoying yourself. They've been quite eager to make your acquaintance for some time now."

Rachel blinked, "What? Oh, yeah. No...no everything's great. Thanks?"

He nodded towards the masseuse, and the other woman returned to massaging her back. "Don't mind me, you just lay down and relax. I mean, I intend to be talking business, but there's no reason you can't enjoy yourself while we do, Ms. Amber. Like I said, the folks I work for went to a lot of trouble making sure you took some time off at one of their properties. Someplace private, where we can talk."

 _Damnit...damnit! Chill. Seriously, just chill Rachel. Don't freak. Like, at all._

Rachel glanced about, trying to appraise her situation and surroundings: what could be used as a weapon, the quickest way to the exit, the likelihood of making a clean getaway, naked, in a resort apparently controlled by...well...she had no idea. Organized crime, she figured. Maybe one of the big groups. Whomever it was, it was exactly the kind of attention she hoped to avoid, at least for a while longer.

 _Shit, they've really got me by the tits here.._

Taking a judicious sip of her drink, more for casual show than anything else, Rachel narrowed her eyes, laid her head out on the tops of her splayed palms, letting her blonde hair pool over her shoulder and said, "Fine. You have my fucking attention, that's for sure. So who are you, and what kind of business do you have in mind?"

Circling his two index fingers around each other, the other man said, "Let me sorta answer all of that in reverse. First, as to who I'm here on behalf of? That would be the Zaibatsu. Specifically, I'm here representing the direct authority of the _mitsudaimyo_ itself."

 _Oh. Shit! I am soooooo screwed..._

Originally a secretive group of industrialists and politicians based out of Japan, the Zaibatsu's power and fortune waxed and waned over the decades after World War Two. By the turn of the millennium, they were an afterthought at best, the worst of their potential excesses thwarted time and again by Red Sun. But over the past year or two, they were quietly on the rise yet again, especially as other world players were getting knocked back and stuck wasting time climbing back up. Rumor had it the remaining bulk of the worldwide Specials community was witnessing the S.O.A.P.'s prolonged saber rattling with increasing dread, and in response multiple smaller groups were combining under a single umbrella in order to form a wedge against them. Certainly, it would explain why Rachel hadn't seen anyone from the Children of Hypatia or XYZZY since the start of the year. She just didn't know who was pulling those strings, and made the mistake of assuming it was either the Chinese or the British.

 _The fact that I'm being softened up with attentive service and tasty beverages is probably a good thing. But a velvet glove can easily hide an iron fist._

She wasn't sure if this was her lucky day, or the beginning of the end; the Zaibatsu possessed a reputation for ruthlessness, although they still followed a curious and strict code of honor and obligation. Granted, this was all back during their last zenith in the nineteen-eighties.

With a herculean effort, Rachel kept her face as placid as possible, taking another fake sip, and muttering. "Really? Huh. Funny thing, not that I know a lot about you guys because you know, the Eighties might as well be the Stone Age to me, but from what little I heard, this seems really...polite, for you guys. When the Zaibatsu wanted something, especially from a _gai-jin,_ they just took it. I mean, sure, they candy-coated it, made it look pretty and artistic like a little bonsai tree, but you either gave in quick or you got dead. Maybe both."

Sighing heavily, and rolling his eyes up towards the ceiling, the still-unnamed man leaned in a bit, "I know, right? I mean, don't get me wrong, I understand the name has a certain cachet, but there's baggage attached as well. You're not the first person to flip out when they hear it. A few months ago, I half-jokingly suggested corporate re-branding, buuut..." He then leaned back, crossing his arms. "I was outvoted. Suffice it to say, the new head of the _mitsudaimyo_? She's really quite insistent on sanding down some of the needlessly sharp edges of the past. I mean," He chuckled and said with a smile, "...don't get me wrong, we'll stomp you into a bloody spot if you go out of your way to fuck with us, but we don't see the point in creating enemies needlessly." With a hint of steel, he concluded, "Not when we have a mutual foe we need to keep our eyes on."

Rachel smirked. She assumed he meant the S.O.A.P., because who else was really left for the rest of the world to gang up against? But that didn't mean she felt like finding out what particular beef he had with them, either.

 _Seriously, what more does he need? Other than they're fascist fucks who won't leave you alone if they find out you've got powers, especially powers they think make a good weapon. I mean, that always worked for me as a reason._

Indifferently tracing her fingertips over the vinyl topping the massage table, she muttered, "Right. Yup. We hates them, precious. So before we get to the whole reason you guys lured me here, you got a name, or do I have to keep saying 'Hey You.' She smirked, punctuating her statement with yet another slurp.

Leaning back, he gave a soft smile and answered, "You can call me Lethe."

Resting her face against a palm, Rachel groaned, which then deepened into a moan as a troublesome knot finally released itself. Loath to end the massage, but realizing she needed to reduce her distractions, she held up a hand and said, "Ohh. Yes. Thanks, but I'm all massaged out for the moment, sweetie." Giving the two of them a knowing smile, the other woman departed.

Rachel sat up, re-wrapped the towel around herself, and turned to the man who called himself Lethe. "Yeah, let me repeat that: uggggh!" She snorted. "The fuck with the code names? I mean, it's cute how Doctor Prometheus liked doing it with us, but Doc was as crackers as he was brilliant. Acting like it was still the Sixties or something."

She sighed softly, her heart weighing heavy for a few moments as she remembered her old mentor. For all the times he drove her crazy with his utopia vision thing, he was kind. And he was respectful. And possessed of a singular vision for a better tomorrow. One he wanted to share with as many people as he could.

And most important of all, he sacrificed himself so that she and the rest of her team could escape from the Russians.

"I mean, sure, the folks in my stable do it, but A: it's kinda for their own protection, and B: some of them are idiots who get off on that kind of thing." she concluded.

Lethe laughed bemusedly, shaking his head. "Oh believe me, I know how you feel, really, I do. But you have to understand the Japanese: they're a culture fixated on honorifics and social hierarchy. Names, titles, positions, they all have power. Granted, I'm generalizing the _hell_ out of them, but for the purposes of my explanation, it's apt. For instance, did you know, during the Edo period, samurai took many different names during their life; at childhood, and when they became an adult...and sometimes, to mark a significant event in their life...a change."

"Uh huh." Rachel deadpanned, still doing her best to play it cool, uncertain as to whether the man in front of her was actually so personable, or simply wearing an inscrutable mask. "Well, thanks for the social studies lesson, but we're talking biz now, right?"

"Right. Right! Straight to it, no time for bullshitting. _This_ is why they sent me, and not one of the natives. Originally, our intention was simply to establish a basic relationship with you; you've had some success, and folks are taking notice. Not just us. For a kid your age to get this far..." He paused, clearly reacting to the sour expression she was giving him at this, "C'mon, seriously. You're not even twenty years old yet. You're luckier than you have any right to be."

She hissed out, "Fine, yes, I can see your point." She didn't like it, but she couldn't deny it. She wasn't some great international woman of mystery, that was for sure. Bravado and good fortune were only going to carry her so far, and as much as the thought of getting wrapped up at the "big league" levels scared the shit out of her, she couldn't deny what an absolutely awesome opportunity this could be, assuming she lived through it.

"So as I was saying, this was just supposed to be an informal discussion of potential future business arrangements. Buuuut, something's suddenly come up, something you just happened to be incredibly well suited for. To get to the point, we want to retain your services for a specific job. More to the point, yours and one of your agents: The Domina."

 _Hmm. Going for the big gun, are you?_

"Cool. I mean, she's kinda on hiatus in a big way, but if you're willing to pay my exorbitant introduction fee, I'll do my best to see if she's interested in jumping back into the game early."

"I don't think you'll have much trouble bringing her on board once you hear the assignment."

"Oh yeah?" Rachel asked. "And what would that be?"

Pausing to run his tongue over his teeth, Lethe tilted his head almost imperceptibly to the side, and said. "Tell me, Rachel...can I call you that?" She frowned in response, and he ignored her. "What do you know about Kronos?"

Rachel blinked, her jaw dropping just a bit.

"Oh fuck, seriously? You went through all this shit to get me to come to Hawaii just to talk about BS rumors and tall tales?"

"Not a rumor, I can definitely assure you." His jovial demeanor quickly bled away, his voice far more steely now."So...again, I'm gonna ask, what do you know about Kronos?"

 _Fine, fine, shit, I'll humor you..._

Rachel shrugged her shoulders and sighed dramatically, "Kronos is supposed to be some big bad Special boogieman cooked up by the S.O.A.P. Like, they were playing around with cloning and genetic manipulation to try and make their own vat-grown Specials. That after the Second World War, the US snagged a bunch of ex-Nazi scientists and put them to work. And after a few decades, they kind of succeeded, but they ended up with this hideously deformed and stupid crazy mutant who was insane...only able to see infinite futures, but unable to focus on the present. Some folks say Kronos could actually change the past, like literally go back in time and shift things around. Doc P was convinced Kronos existed, but that he only opened up gateways to alternate timelines, and the US Government was obsessed with finding virgin universes that they could mine for resources. But, I mean, whatever. It all sounds like posturing and bullshit to me."

"Oh really? What makes you so sure?" Lethe asked.

"Everyone know's Paul Martinet is a self-important asshole who's pissed that all his PNAC buddies totally blew it in the Middle East and never got to establish some kinda, I don't know what you'd call it? Eternal American hegemony? Oh! That's an awesome name for a punk rock band, by the way!" She brushed back a few strands of hair and continued, "He gets put in charge of the S.O.A.P. as a political favor and all of the sudden, these rumors about Kronos start making the rounds, as if out of a vacuum. It's soooooo fucking obvious what's going on; he's getting all the warmongers wet, making it sound like they've got some super-weapon that's gonna put the US on top forever. And like magic, everyone falls for it, and the funding gets goosed up...the overwhelming majority of which he gives to the Damocles Initiative, even though the S.O.A.P. was originally meant to be a scientific research group. I mean, c'mon!" Rachel laughed derisively. "A mega-powerful super-Special that can see into the future or change the past? No one with that level of power's ever Emerged. Not even close. That would be such a huge game changer! Everyone would seriously freak out if it _were_ true."

Lethe smiled, almost painfully wide. He crossed his legs, laid back in his chair, and tapped the tips of his fingers together. "Yes. I suppose they would. And isn't it funny, that Martinet takes over in the middle of 2008, and the next year, the Tianming in China start undertaking the kind of risky, desperate experiments that resulted in the Dimension War? And then Krashne Zmei start forcibly acquiring - ah - assets a few years later. Trust me, I know the history, they've never acted so damn scared in the past. And now the Zaibatsu is reforming itself as a collaborative of disparate interests with only one truly common goal."

Rachel jumped right into it, "Okay yes, big fucking yay. Damocles is getting way too powerful, all of the sudden. Fuck, it might as well be the same thing as the S.O.A.P. at this point, instead of just a sub-branch. And yeah, all you've done is just prove that it's freaking out everyone else. That doesn't mean it's because Kronos is anything more than a myth. I mean, why don't we all live in some sort of reality where the United States reigns supreme, and has no one to challenge it? Like, at all? If they have Kronos, they're doing a shitty job of utilizing him."

"Maybe they tried. Maybe it went badly. They had to take it all back, and what we have right now is the best result. How would you know?"

She shrugged. "It's still too damn big. Changes the status quo way too much. I mean, shit, just the rumor of it has everyone running around like idiots. In a few more years, Martinet will be gone, and then this shit will probably quiet down. Maybe the S.O.A.P. gets stupid too, and shrinks down, and some other group, I don't know, probably you guys, get to play Special Superpower for a decade or so. There seems to be a lot of creative destruction in our little community lately. But sooner or later, everything will go back to normal, and everyone will feel like morons for buying into this notion that one singular person came along and changed the balance of power."

Lethe stared hard at her, for a good five seconds, before he deadpanned, "A few people think the same thing about you, Rachel. They have a charming little expression for it and everything: a black swan."

Rachel's blood turned cold as her heart felt like it was seizing up in her chest for a brief moment. A surge of adrenaline flooded her limbs. Trying to play it cool, she smiled and shrugged, "Sorry dude, I've got no idea what any of that is supposed to mean. Nulls aren't anything special. We just keep everyone else's powers from working."

Holding up a hand, Lethe spoke in a reassuring tone, "Don't worry, believe me: barely anyone is left in the world who knows, or even suspects that you're anything more than a mere Null. God knows Doctor Prometheus took great pains to wipe out every Zmei facility or database that he even suspected had the information. Man went as far as sacrificing his life to keep that secret safe. I mean, you don't seriously believe that _The Domina_ was K-Z's primary target for acquisition, do you?"

Rachel swallowed back the acid bile rising to her throat. Suddenly, she wanted to be somewhere, anywhere, other than here. She felt as if her back were pressed to the wall, and her life might be measured in minutes going forward.

"Right, well you're on the verge of a panic attack by the look in your eyes, so let's just get right to it, shall we?" Lethe opened up his robe, and pulled out an eight by ten manila envelope. "Here. Take it. Say hi to Kronos."

Reaching out hesitantly - as if it might bite her - she snagged the thin envelope, opened it up, and slid out the glossy photo inside. Turning it over in her hands, she studied the image: a girl. Muscular for her age, trained rigorously, that much was obvious. Dressed up in the standard Damocles field uniform, she seemed unaware of being photographed. She was in a city somewhere, but Rachel couldn't tell which one.

Breathing out softly, she exclaimed, "Jesus fucking Christ. She's just a kid..."

That might have been an exaggeration. Really, the girl looked to be as old as Rachel herself. They could have easily been in the same grade in school together, back in the day. And in that vein, there _was_ something familiar about her, but she couldn't put her finger on what.

"She has a name, you know?" Lethe spoke, a sad, distant look in his eyes. "Maxine. But she hated that, hated it when you called her anything but Max."

Glancing over the edge of the photo, Rachel said, "Oh yeah? You almost sound like you know her personally."

Lethe pointedly ignored her as he continued to speak, "She was barely thirteen when they took her away; the flare window after she Emerged was incredibly powerful, made her easy to find...just follow the trail of broken reality. She got snagged by a Damocles team in under seventy-two hours."

Rachel closed her eyes and thought back to what she could remember of Damocles and the S.O.A.P. What Doctor Prometheus told her, what few fragments she could still glean as a result of her own unusual Emergence. She then said, "I know in the old days, they used to just put you on a watch list, the Register, I think they called it? Especially if you were a minor. Really lean on you to join, and they'd watch every move you made for the rest of your life, but as long as you weren't too much a threat, they left you alone...more or less."

Lethe's lips tightened thinly across his face. "Well, that was a long time ago. But even before 9/11, do you really think they would have just let her be?"

Rachel shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe? Depends, I guess."

She groaned, immediately regretting her answer.

"Never mind. Er...Jesus. Anyhow, was she _really_ that much of a threat? Like, are we talking Back To The Future shit here, or just she can only predict the next hand of blackjack at the casino?"

Lethe rose up from the chair, turning away from her and glancing out one of the small windows into the setting sun. His shoulders slumped, and his head bowed low. Clearly there was so much he wasn't telling.

 _Who the hell are you, dude? Seriously._

"New York City was supposed to be a crater in the ground, yesterday afternoon. A - ah -" he turned back around, his face locked back down into a mask of placid geniality. "Terrorist attack, or so the scuttlebutt goes. Nuclear."

Rachel snorted, "Uh, pretty sure I would have heard about something like...oh shit." She paused. "Wait. Wait, shit, seriously?"

"It was her first mission. After years of training her and honing her powers to the breaking point. But something went wrong. Our intelligence assets are trying to piece it all together, but we _do_ know Max was deployed so she could change the past. She succeeded, but a major complication broke out. In the confusion, she managed to escape. Slip through all the security precautions, shake off the trackers they loaded her down with. Now Damocles has no idea where she's gone."

Lethe chuckled, turning his head to one side; he looked proud, like a father who just saw his daughter score the winning goal.

"The Zaibatsu's been watching the situation for a while, waiting to see if an opportunity would present itself. It has, so we've been working overtime to keep Damocles guessing, while we try and figure out where she went before they do. Right now, we've managed to convince them she's in Canada, but it's probably not gonna take more than a week for them to figure out that's a dead end. As to where she _actually_ is: we have some ideas...we know she started out in New York City, obviously. We have our best minds working every angle, and want to extend a friendly hand to her. Get her to come aboard."

Rachel rolled her eyes, "And then _you_ guys get to be the biggest, scariest bitches on the block. Maybe you all should just leave her..."

"NO!" Lethe all but yelled. He grimaced, clutching at his hands as he struggled to regain control. "It's - it's not like that! We won't keep her a prisoner. We won't force her to do anything she doesn't want to. The Zaibatsu just wants to get her off the playing board, away from Damocles and out of the S.O.A.P. entirely. I mean, _of course_ they'd like her to work with their own scientists...there's all sorts of ways in which she could be of positive benefit to the world...the _whole_ world, not just one country!" He paused, and then glared at her, accusingly, "We're not like them!"

Rachel gave a slow and easy roll of her shoulders, "Hey, whatever, dude."

 _Hah. Yeah. Right. Are you seriously naive enough to think that they won't be trying to use her to make themselves more rich and powerful. I mean, shit, her and me together, with our powers combined? We could probably make the world ours. Meh, too much fucking work though._

On the other hand, Rachel really fucking hated the S.O.A.P. Of course, she hated almost all of the government-backed Specials groups as a general rule, although Red Sun never gave her any grief in the past. Also she once ended up working briefly with some people at Task Force Excalibur, and they at least let her walk away from the experience.

As for the dicks from Damocles, she never had any direct dealings with them, but she heard enough horror stories from people she trusted. Not to mention what she learned the day she Emerged; she couldn't remember most of it, but she figured she recalled enough to know the score for certain.

 _Might be good to get on the winning side of this._

Rachel realized "might" had nothing to do with this. If she and the rest of her group - playing at being their own tiny faction - wanted to do anything more than live long enough to be quickly squashed underneath a much bigger group's thumb, she was going to need to find a long shadow to take refuge in.

"Alright, fine. I get that." Rachel said soothingly. "I agree, we're all on the same side here, more or less. So this is pretty simple, right? You want me to try and bring The Domina in, and she and I are somehow going to try and figure out Kronos' location and then talk her down? Get her to come on board with your gang?"

Lethe appeared much calmer now. "Something like that. We'll be providing you with updated intelligence on her location as time goes on...as we figure it out. And we're hoping you might find something we miss."

She asked the next obvious question, "And if I decide this isn't my style? That this shit is all too hot, and I want to walk away?"

Lethe walked over, and opened up the door to the outside. "Then we thank you for your time, Ms. Amber, and trust that your reputation for discretion is as solid as we've been led to believe."

They stared at each other for a few seconds. Rachel wasn't sure exactly what to believe; she was pretty certain she'd walk away from this alive, but she harbored no illusions that she'd emerge completely unscathed, one way or the other. Especially not from a man who called himself Lethe.

"So. You're gonna trust just the two of us, huh? Hope that Kronos'll trust me, because I'm also a girl roughly her age?"

"Good a reason as any, right? Also, the two of you together, you and the Domina, have a perfect skillset for the job." Rachel was still unnerved by the fact that Lethe seemed to know the full extent and breadth of her powers, but figured there was no point in making anything of it for the time being.

"There's also the fact..." he continued. "...well, what would you say if I told you that Kronos was probably the reason why you and The Domina Emerged as well?

* * *

Three hours later found Rachel fully packed, stepping out of the limo that had driven her to the private airfield where a Zaibatsu corporate jet was waiting for her. A tall, muscular Japanese man, bald-headed, with a tattoo of a dragon inked on the side of his neck stood silent vigil, holding out a case. Next to him was an older, smaller Asian woman, in an impeccable black business suit. She reached over to open the attache case, and intoned:

"The agreed upon amount, Aegis-san. You may feel free to count it all, if you wish."

It required a monumental effort on her part not to roll her eyes and snort derisively. On the other hand, Rachel wasn't a country bumpkin, not anymore; she understood the expectation of honor, the ritual, the whole weird little games the Japanese wanted to play. She nodded, giving a little bow, and said, "I'm sure the Zaibatsu has no intention of deceiving me. Not when we both stand to benefit from this arrangement." With that, she closed the case

 _Besides, you fuckers gyp me on the benjies, I'll just convince this Max girl to join up with my group. Ha! That would be awesome! We'd be totally elite, completely untouchable..._

Her childish power-fantasy lasted precisely three seconds, before the cold, harsh reality set in.

 _Sure they've thought of that. Already planned for that contingency. Probably a team shadowing me, waiting to see if I'll pull that trick. Fuck._

She took the case in her arms, and then bowed again as expected to the Zaibatsu representative, before clambering up the stairs into the plane.

"Good hunting to you. The Zaibatsu has high hopes for your success." The woman gave a thin, wintery smile.

Rachel turned sideways, nodded once, and then made her way inside.

 _Aw shit. You're really up to your eyeballs in it now, bitch. I mean, I wanted to succeed, to have some control over my own life, but I never wanted to run with dogs_ this _big._

But if she was doomed, she was definitely going to enjoy herself in her last days; the jet was absolutely gorgeous. Tastefully appointed in dark tones, hardwood accents, overstuffed plush chairs. The back of the plane even had a small bathroom and queen sized bed. Not to mention the expectation of getting a meal and catered to on the trip over.

Placing the valise down on a nearby table, she opened it up, and made an earnest check of the cash. Everything looked legit; no stupid tricks, no sloppy, obviously counterfeit bills, no layer of shredded newsprint to try and pad out the cash on top. It was all here. Everything she asked for...

" _I want ten million dollars" she stated bluntly._

 _Lethe's placid shell nearly fractured, as he started to sputter, "Wh-wha-what?! You...I mean Jesus, you can't...what possibly makes you think you're going to get that kind of ridiculous payday?"_

 _It was crazy. It was desperate, a complete gamble. But she needed to show she had some guts, that she wasn't just a pushover who'd do whatever she was told._

" _Because you're the fucking Zaibatsu! That's like what, the amount you guys spend on sushi and the lines of blow off you all snort off the asses of naked underaged Japanese schoolgirls in a week? Seriously, this is Kronos! The legend! Or so you're telling me. The Special that everyone thought was a made up tale to bullshit the US Congress into pumping up the S.O.A.P.'s black budget, while freaking out the rest of the world and keeping us off-balance. I'm putting my tits on the line here. What if she sees me coming, goes back in time and kills Grampa Amber, and boom, I don't exist any more?"_

 _Lethe scowled, "She wouldn't do that! My God...even if she had that kind of power, she would never...ever...!"_

 _Rachel held out her hands, "Okay, okay, fine, I get it, she's your special little snowflake. Honestly, I don't care about your story here, but I do know that if I pull this off, I'm handing you guys All The Power. So I want ten million, that's cheap! You guys can make that up in an hour, manipulating any and all of the stock and gambling markets. Frankly, I should be asking for more. Because if this really is Kronos you're talking about, and she's as world-shaking as everyone thinks? This shouldn't be anything for you guys. You should be willing to pay me a hundred million. Or a billion! Not that I'm asking, but...you see my point, right?"_

 _A look of dismay crossed Lethe's face, but it quickly morphed into something that demonstrated how impressed he was with her, before he smothered it completely with a neutral mask. Smiling graciously, he shook his head and said. "Still can't agree to ten. Three though, maybe I can talk them into it."_

 _She snorted. "Yeah, right, I wipe my ass with your three. Eight and a half."_

" _Oh come on. I know you think the Zaibatsu is all money and money and money, but it's not like that. We can't just snap our fingers and make cash appear out of thin air. I'm already putting my neck out on the line if I tell them you'll agree to four."_

" _Oh bull-fucking-shit, four. But you're cute, and I'm still a tiny bit drunk, so I'm willing to slip down to six and a quarter." she retorted._

" _Five." Lethe said, in a tone that indicated that as far as he was concerned, the negotiations were over. "Five million, and I'll point out that if you_ do _manage to bring her back safely to us, you'll have the Zaitbatsu's undying gratitude. So take a moment to consider the long-term benefits, both tangible and otherwise, that situation would present you."_

 _Rachel made a show of pursing her lips, just a bit of a pout. In actuality, she would have settled for two mil and a promise never to be bothered by them again; internally, she was skipping back and forth in utter delight. Especially if she ended up as a "made" woman._

" _Fine. I think I can work with that. But I'm gonna need ten percent of that in cash up front before I start."_

" _Holy shit! Kid, you really don't know when to stop push-"_

 _Rachel cut him off short, "It's not for me! Not...exactly. Look, you guys want me to rope The Domina in for this job? Well believe it or not, even the chance to go legend-hunting may not stir her out of her weird little 'I want to try being a normal person for a while longer' routine that she's playing at right now. But you send me out with a suitcase just hella chock with paper? Believe me, I know her tastes, and this'll be totally tasty to her."_

 _Lethe nodded appreciatively. "Yeah. Okay. Sure, I think we can do that. Give me three hours to get things prepared. You go pack, get whatever you need ready to go, and there'll be a limo waiting to bring you to a jet..."_

" _You gonna give me a full briefing on the situation?" she asked._

 _He smirked in return. "You get your little team together first. Once we see you've got that much taken care of, we'll bring you in the rest of the way."_

There was one last thing inside, small and thin, and vaguely reminiscent of a smartphone or tiny media player. A paper note in crisp handwriting read: "If you run into complications, try giving this to her. It's keyed to her retinal pattern, so only she can access the data on it. - L"

Slipping the device into her jacket pocket, and then closing the case back up, Rachel sighed.

So she was going back to the Bay. Back home.

 _Well, not exactly home. I mean, I only lived there for school. Still, had some awesome memories. Shitty ones too but..._

She'd swing by, make the pickup. Maybe spend a day or two taking care of old business. If nothing else she'd probably have to deal with Frank, if he got wind of her return...

 _Ugh...this is me, rolling my eyes internally._

...and then there was Chloe.

Rachel's heart sank like a stone. She slumped in her chair, remembering the last time they talked. It was a shitty thing she had to do; she'd be the first to admit that her conscience acquired a certain degree of flexibility, borne of the need to survive over the past half-year, but when she took the time to really consider how badly it ended between her and her former best friend...

 _...I really,_ really _liked you Chlo-lo. That was never fake. I mean, it's obvious you were in love, and I wasn't. Soooohhhreee, maybe it's not fair, but I never lied about my feelings. Doesn't mean you weren't...aren't special to me. So authentic, and so gritty, not to mention adorable beyond belief. I do...I really do miss you._

She had to cut her off, for Chloe's own protection. That's what Rachel kept telling herself. But after their talk last month, it sounded like she left her in some financial shit with her own sorta-kinda-but-not-really boyfriend. All because Chloe thought she was dead and going crazy from grief.

She bowed her head, covering her eyes.

"Fucking suck sometimes, Rachel. You really do." she muttered.

Straightening up, she glanced over at the case. Smirked to herself.

 _Well...ooookay then Chloe. Seems like fate is stepping in here. Gonna have to swing through town, with sooooooooo many fat stacks on me. I'm gonna make this right. I know you probably hate me forever, and really, it's best we don't hang so much anymore, but I promise you babe: you did mean_ so much _to me, not all that long ago._

She laughed, imagining the look on the blunette's face when she showed up at her door, already steeling herself for the slap or the punch she'd probably take. She wondered if she could get away with telling her old friend the real reason why she fled the country back in April.

 _Hah! Yeah, she'd never believe it. Never believe that there's a secret world out there with super-powered people running around in it. She'd call it all bullshit. Anyhow, doesn't matter. Time enough to worry about all that when I get into town._

An attractive Asian stewardess emerged from the cockpit, dressed in a rather low-cut dark uniform, hair and face done up, with an expression on her face: part business, part sensual allure.

Giving a bow and holding it, Rachel did her absolute best not to insult her by peering down at her cleavage. The stewardess spoke, her soft voice rife with an Australian twang, "Ms. Amber, my name is Yuriko, and I will be serving you tonight. The pilot has asked me to inquire as to where you wish to be taken?"

"Portland. Oregon. Yeah, that should be good enough. Whatever airport in the area works best for you guys. And I'll need to call ahead on a some stuff, ahead of time: rental car, lodgings, that kind of thing."

Nodding once, Yuriko said, "Of course. I can make all of those arrangements for you, should you so desire. And afterwards, I can attend to whatever other needs you may have." She tilted her head, just so. "Perhaps you'd like to start with a meal?"

Rachel gave the woman a mischievous look. "Well, I _am_ hungry. What do you have on the menu?"

* * *

 ** _A/N:_** Awwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww yeah, Swanketters. Swan Saturday is back in Black. :-D

Oh wait...it's Friday? Are you sure? Are you really sure? ;-)

APRIL FOOLS!

Sorry, after six weeks, I just couldn't wait another day. And given that not only is it April Fools Day, but the three year anniversary of when I made my FFN account (and tomorrow is the three year anniversary of starting my epic ME saga.) it seemed like the perfect day to jump the gun.

Thanks for being so patient. I realize six weeks is a long hiatus, but I desperately, _desperately_ needed that time. I got a lot of work done, between being able to catch up and fill the buffer to six or seven chapters ahead at present, plus get the final push I needed to complete Grande Dame. My muse and my motivation are strongly tied in with the seasons, and March - October tends to be my "manic creative" phase, so I'm anticiapting being able to keep up with the writing demands.

So, good news/bad news. I'm anticipating one last hiatus. Work is going to get crazier and crazier the closer I get to July, and then I have a big vacation in August. And, you know, poor **Corentin IV** has a life of her own, believe it or not; an exciting life filled with daring-do and the finest cuisine, and I'm always thrilled to bits to be fortunate enough to have her sage advice at my disposal at Editor. But right now I am shooting to get TEN chapters published before the next hiatus. That's literally two whole months of Black Swan goodness! I'll probably take all of June off, with the notion of getting the last 4 to 6 chapters (or so my current estimates are telling me) done. Baring any complications, I imagine this series will finish up just shy of it's one year anniversary. Neat :)

BTW I want to thank everyone who reads, and _especially_ everyone who reviews. I peeked at the community lineup, out of vain curiosity the other day, and discovered almost by accident that this series is the second most popular LiS fic by reviews, the first of course being End - Hospital by **rowanred81**. And that's cool, you know? I was actually really shocked, because that's like coming in second to Jesus, IMO. And in terms of follows and favorites, Black Swan is still in the top 5 so yeah, I'm really jazzed and humbled. Thank you all!

(Boy, I should really check out So Hardcore by **LightTheWayAhead** as well as So Far Gone by **deuce2891** someday. Those look very popular as well!)

Oh, one last thing: I've been treating Blackwell in this story like it's a four year high school when Max's journal in the game says it's seniors-only. So, uh...in my AU, it's a four year high school. Deal with it :-D


	27. Dare To Dream

_Maxima the jungle girl has escaped her prison at last._

 _Except it's a fleeting victory; already, she feels the Viper and its evil minions hunting her. Perhaps a life of continuously running, staying one step ahead of the hunter is a mere shadow of true liberty, but for today?_

 _She is free._

 _But there was a cost. One she can't remember, not consciously. The surrounding savannah burns all around her, destruction and devastation stretching out in all directions, towards the horizon; and then, all is well. And then, the devastation returns, and the two states of existence overlap._

 _There is...a boy? A girl? Someone. Small, smaller than her. She tries to focus her eyes on the body, the one laying on the ground before her, but her vision continuously slides away, details stubbornly refusing to reveal themselves._

 _She knows that the child is dead; dead by her hand. It wasn't her fault...she thinks. She didn't intend for it to happen, but it lead to her freedom all the same. One life traded for another._

 _It hardly seems a fair exchange._

 _A soft, warm hand rests upon her shoulder, squeezing it. A familiar voice remarks, "Not your fault, babe. You didn't mean anything by it. But if they catch you, then the death's meaningless."_

 _Maxima glances up, squinting against the high sun; it's Oregon Price, cutting the ever-dashing figure in her canvas pants, button up shirt, and leather fedora. her long blonde hair..._

 _Wait a second, no. That's not right._

 _...her short blue hair tucked up underneath. Bullwhip and pistol at her hips. She's changed, since the last they met, but the way Maxima feels about her hasn't._

 _They've shared many adventures together since Maxima's escape: they defeated the Great White Hunter, maddened by his own pain. They saved the Missionary from falling prey to the demons of her own despair. Even Oregon Price herself has learned a valuable lesson or two along the way._

 _At once, the sun is setting low, and Maxima turns to look towards it. Swallowing hard, she finds her voice and states, "I need to go. The Viper will soon be here, if she isn't already. I can't let you fight her with me. You're not..."_

 _She doesn't want to say the words: strong enough. She doesn't want the other woman to think she's weak in any way at all._

 _Without another word, Maxima walks away. The sun grows dimmer, the air colder. The world meaner. The fear in her heart swells with each step. She looks over her shoulder; Price is still there, giving her a devil-may-care smile._

 _She tips her hat, and says, "I could go with you. I_ want _to go with you. You don't have to do this alone."_

 _Maxima bites down on her lip, resisting the urge to accept the offer. "I...I want...I want you. To travel with me. But it's too dangerous. What if you die? Or worse?"_

" _I think that should be my choice. Don't you? Maybe you think you're saving me. But what if we're stronger together? I mean, who's gonna save_ you? _"_

 _The jungle girl turns away and continues walking; each step grows more painful, the chill cutting through her like a knife, her heart pounding with increasing terror.._

 _She turns and runs. Runs back to Oregon Price. Throws herself in her arms, buries her face against the dashing woman's shoulder. The sun flares into golden brightness, the birds all around them chirp merrily. Maxima is dipped backwards, and laughs with childlike glee as her partner takes control; strong, reassuring, protective. Their eyes meet, and she knows that, if just for a moment, she can relax. She can lower her guard._

 _Their faces are so close together now. A warm breath blows over her cheek._

" _I'm here if you want me, Max. All you have to do is ask. You'll figure out the rest."_

 _Maxima suddenly cups her cheeks, planting a firm, possessive kiss on her mouth, claiming her..._

Max's eyes flew open as she awoke with a start. Glancing over at the light streaming in through the window, it was well into the morning, and she was still feeling a bit woozy from the brownies.

 _Was a lot of fun though. Totally worth it._

She was dreaming, something about Chloe, and a jungle? It felt familiar, and the memory of a similar dream from a long time ago rattled around in her brain. There was something more, but she just couldn't put her finger on it. She didn't feel like trying to figure it out, and instead snuggled up into Chloe's back, arms wrapped tightly around her.

 _Mmmm. Warm. Soft..._

She blinked. as she realized she was spooning Chloe possessively. She couldn't recall falling asleep that way, but she really didn't remember falling asleep, period. As much as it made her blush, she didn't want to let go.

 _The moment I do, the day starts for real. The day I have to leave. Sooner the better, I suppose. No sense in drawing it out. Ah, God. It really was amazing Chloe! I'm serious, last night was the best night of my life._

She laid there, listening to Chloe's steady breathing; the blunette lightly snorted on occasion as she snored away. Max reveled in the closeness, the physical comfort. This was a precious moment, and she was in no rush to end it.

It was a good ten minutes before she finally forced herself to gently disengage from holding her friend tight. Glanced down and spotted the camera, on the floor, where she must have carelessly placed it from the night before. Reaching over and picking it up, Max smiled to herself.

 _Always remember this moment._

She could have a picture at least, of herself, with Chloe snoozing cutely behind her. A flash-frozen memory to keep her warm on the long journey ahead. She lay on her side, back towards the other girl, as she positioned the camera for what she assumed would be the best angle.

"Photobomb!" a very-awake Chloe suddenly announced, planting a face right next to hers. Max tried her best not to startle, instead drawling out a "Photohog." before smiling and taking a picture of them both. She and Chloe then rolled onto their backs, sighing softly.

"It feels like a different world from yesterday." Max suddenly remarked. She swore she was still a little stoned, but it was more than that. Yesterday was so incredibly eventful; the things she'd done...hell, the things they'd done together. Of course, for her, it'd been like two days rolled up into one. Three...maybe?

 _Yeah, definitely no more than three._

"We left our mark on the Bay, yesterday." Chloe said, leaning against her elbow and smiling brightly.

Max turned to face her, brushing the hair out of her face. "Hah. Yeah. Oh God, we sure did." She sighed softly, tracing her fingers over the bedcovers and then bowed her head. "Too bad we can't leave a few more. Being back home in Arcadia Bay and it's like...was it always this run down, Chloe? Did it change that much in five years, or were we just too young to notice it until now?"

The blunette shrugged, "Don't ask me. Even _I_ know I'm the last person who's gonna give you a fair answer. We were just kids, you know? We stopped being so fucking naive." She blew out a huge breath. "But we did leave the town better than we found it. At least for a day. That was pretty righteous."

"I bet...I bet we could totally clean up Arcadia Bay. Make it all better; bright, shiny and new. If only the world would give us a chance."

Chloe snorted, shaking her head. "Yeah. Well, there's so many assholes out there, making their living on keeping people who can actually make a difference - shake up the status quo - from doing it."

Max stared up sadly at the ceiling. "Wish we could just lay back and hang out all day, like we used to. Would be nice, you know? Just a day to relax, take it easy."

Smiling hopefully, Chloe said, "We could, you know? Just do that? I mean, I know you have to go, but...well...what about if you just left in the evening?"

Max shook her head ruefully. "Bad enough I haven't left already. Trust me, Chloe; nothing would be more awesome than to spend as much time with you as I could. But the sooner I get out of here, the better. Otherwise I'm too much of a danger, to you and your Mom. Even David."

"Well, two out of three ain't bad." Chloe mused, as she grabbed the remote control to her stereo, and turned it on, old rock music starting to softly play. Max rose up, stretched out, and looked around. She noted with dismay that her outfit from last night was still soaked with pool water.

 _No time to launder it. I'll have to abandon that. Damn. I really could use a few more changes of clothes before I hit the road..._

As if reading her mind, Chloe canted her head towards her closet. "Feel free to help yourself to whatever Bitcherella left behind. Looked like you fit her stuff pretty good the other day." She lay back on the bed. "Fuck, I guess if you're going today, I ought to finally make plans to follow behind ya. I can pay Frank off now, and other than maybe trying to take Nathan down with the blackmail you gave me, I got nothing else holding me to this town. Shit, might as well post a bunch of copies all over town and then bug out."

Max laughed, shaking her head, "Oooh, look at you. Ms. Radical Deviant." She bopped into the closet and grabbed a few choice items: shirts, pants, even underwear. There was more here than she realized, having overlooked most of it during the rush on Monday. Unfortunately, Max would have to leave her uniform pieces behind, with the exception of the boots: those were just military issue, easily found in any surplus store. And the guns, she'd definitely have to keep those. But the protective tunic and greatcoat were unique enough that they would mark her if she tried to travel too far while wearing them. Even the cargo pants seemed like too much of a risk for her to hang on to them.

"Hey." Max called out. "I'm gonna leave all my Damocles-issue stuff in a cardboard box back here, okay? You should burn it. Or bury it. Not that it has any trackers on it, but you know...just in case assholes from the government blow through."

"Hell, we can deal with all that shit on the way to...er. I mean, you _are_ gonna let me give you a ride out of town, right? Either way, I know the perfect place to make things disappear."

 _Oh damn. I hadn't thought about that. Probably best if Chloe gave me a lift somewhere. I mean, yeah. It's a chance to spend a little more time with her, if nothing else._

"Cool. Yeah, sounds like an awesome plan, thanks."

Max worked on putting together an outfit from the various bits the mysterious Rachel Amber left behind; she couldn't help but be intensely curious about Chloe's ex-friend, and despite herself, her mind started to work in 'Profile Mode'.

 _They were friends, obviously. Really close friends. The way Chloe continuously finds ways to snark and bitch about her, she obviously cared about her. People don't get that upset if other people who don't mean an awful lot to them betray them. Chloe's still really hurting, so she must..._

Max realized that she must have meant the world to Chloe.

She couldn't help but wonder: what did they do together? What did they talk about? Did...did Chloe talk about _her_? Did she tell Rachel about her, about _their_ friendship. Or was she just an afterthought?

It wasn't until she realized she was twisting up the shirt in her hands to the tearing point that she acknowledged how agitated the prospect of Chloe being really...close with someone else made her.

 _Can't be angry at Chloe though. She didn't know what happened to me. She probably held out hope until the end, but she didn't know where I was, or if I was ever coming back. If this other girl gave her some comfort, then good for her. Thank you, whoever you are._

She paused, before internally adding...

 _Fuck you for hurting her, though. Better hope we never meet._

Part of her couldn't help but smile. Rachel was out of the picture, and Chloe was all alone. It was just the two of them, the whole time she was back in town. The way Max always wanted it to be. It would have been fucked up, kinda weird and awkward, if she found herself playing third wheel. Probably wouldn't have stuck around as long as she did, if that were the case.

Determined not to spend the rest of the morning brooding, Max pulled on a pair of fashionable leather pants, securing them with a studded belt. It was a good fit with her combat boots. She considered the black-purple Sleater-Kinney t-shirt, and paired it up with a black and white plaid flannel top. Popping out of the closet, she held out her arms and asked, "Hey. So is this good? Five years living in a hole in the ground, I really don't know what the hell works together, fashion-wise. I mean, I don't know if it's my style..."

Chloe rose up from the bed, smiling as she gave her a long looking over. "Max, you don't have a style yet. But shit if you don't look good in that. Wear it as well as...as she ever did. But..." she rubbed her upper arm, biting her bottom lip briefly, "Fuck, I hate to say it, but I'm kinda jealous. You're gonna have this amazing journey, you know? Hella self-discovery and all that. You're gonna figure out what suits you, what _you_ want out of life. Not what these fascist dickbags say they want for you. Well, anyhow, I just wish I could see it with you." She then laughed, and walked over, an almost frenetic energy taking over, "But seriously, you should go crazy. You're free! You got hella power. Just live, you know! Just take chances! Whenever and whatever you want to try!"

She planted her hands on her hips, tilting her head up, "For example: I dare you to kiss me."

Max felt her brain short out for a second.

"Whoa, sorry, Che. For a moment I could have sworn you said..."

"I double dare you. Kiss me, now."

Something in Max's mind seized up, like an old vinyl record skipping tracks. She couldn't believe what she was hearing; why would Chloe possibly say something like that?

 _She gotta still be totally stoned, right? What else makes sense?_

 _So what should I do?_

She didn't mean for it to happen, not consciously. Max just leaned in, one hand reaching out to grip Chloe by the shoulders and pull her close, the other lifting up to cup her cheek. Bereft of any practical experience the whole of her life, she closed her eyes, tilted her head, and pressed her lips to her best friend's. There was a kind of click in her brain, satisfying in its utter simplicity. Like two jigsaw puzzle pieces coming together, the two you'd just spent the last half hour trying to find. The ones that finally completed the picture.

It was over though, before it really began.

Chloe jerked back as if electrified. She was blushing, but laughed nervously, as if trying to play it off: calm, cool and casual. "Damn, you're hardcore. Uh. Wow! I mean, didn't think you'd actually go for it. But then again, y-you can probably kill a man with your bare hands, so this was an easy thing for you to do." With an awkward half-smile, she rubbed the back of her head, turning away as she drifted back towards the bed.

Max quietly stood there, at a loss for words. She wasn't sure what happened. She didn't know what she was expecting, or what she wanted...

 _...just...not this! Not whatever that was!_

She wanted to play it cool in return though, like Chloe clearly was. She tried her best to ignore the tight, twisting vise that gripped her heart, the unshed tears stinging her eyes. She felt stupid, and foolish, and she had no fucking idea why! She was angry at Chloe, angry at herself and she didn't want any of those things.

And for the first time since coming back to Arcadia Bay, Max felt glad that she was leaving soon.

Today.

It couldn't come fast enough.

Max turned on one heel and stalked towards the staircase, as she heard Chloe call out, "Hey! I'll see you in a few mins for...breakfast?"

Maybe she said something else, but Max stopped paying attention, as she clomped down, her boots hitting the stairs harder than she initially intended. It wasn't until she spied Joyce in the kitchen, dressed for work, and making a late breakfast, that she slowed her steps, forcing herself to push down hard on whatever sulky angst was roiling in her sternum.

She'd process all this shit out later.

* * *

As Max made her way towards the kitchen, she put on a casual, friendly expression she absolutely did not feel. "Hey Joyce. Morning."

The other woman smiled. "Well, I was wondering when you two were going to get up. I have to head to work soon, but I figured you girls could use some real food in you." Joyce turned, regarding her. "Well, my goodness. you really wear that well, don't you?" She sighed, then smirked. "Well good. I'm glad Chloe's finally getting rid of all those clothes. Don't get me wrong, you look good in them. They suit you. But...Rachel's name is mud in this house."

Max glanced down at herself, starting to regret her choice. "Bad memories, huh?"

"Oooooh..." Joyce drawled, as she turned back to the kitchen stove. "...I never fully approved of Rachel. I mean, she was polite enough, and clearly popular, but she had this sort of hold on Chloe. Something always told me that girl was going to break her heart; hated that I was right, though." She shook her head and frowned deeply. "Beyond that, it's really not my place to say anything more. Other than she hurt my baby...bad."

Max squeezed her eyes closed and scrubbed at her face.

 _God. Stupid...stupid! Of course she wanted me to kiss her...because...because I'm all dressed up like her ultra-cool girlfriend. Ex-girlfriend. Whatever. Ha! So fucking stupid; here I thought she might actually want to..I mean. Like she felt...gah!_

Oblivious to Max's internal agony, Joyce blithely asked, "So what can I get you to eat?"

Max pushed back against the growing maelstrom of emotion, smiling through the tears just behind her eyes. "P-pancakes sounds good. Uh, it'll be nice. To have one of your meals right before I hit the road."

Joyce made a disappointed sound. "Awww. Have to leave already? Was hoping we'd actually get a chance to talk some more. Well, I know how it is. Sounds like you've got a lot going on in your life these days. Just promise me you won't be such a stranger next time?"

Max drifted over to the table, and sat herself down. Belatedly, she looked up, and nodded, perhaps with a bit too much enthusiasm. "Uh-huh. You bet!"

As she got to work, the older woman smiled softly, "Got to say, you really brightened up Chloe's week. Haven't seen her so happy, in - well - I can't really remember when. Not that I've seen her much at all, with you around, but she was practically bouncing off the walls the one or two times I caught sight of her yesterday."

Max nodded numbly, putting on a brave smile, "Yeah. Great. I - ah - I wish I could stay longer. But I gotta go. Figure she can just drive me to the train station or something."

Breakfast was soon placed on the table; Max did her best to drown her sorrows in butter and syrup. Joyce tried to engage her in small talk, and while Max initially humored her, she was secretly grateful when the older woman took the hint and let her chow down in peace, without pressing her further for details about what was going on in her life.

 _God knows, I'm not in the mood for any more lies..._

After finishing barely half her meal, Max wiped her mouth and quietly excused herself. "Do you mind if I use the backyard, Joyce?"

"Max Caulfield, you are not a guest in this house; you're family. No matter how long it's been. You never have to ask."

Joyce's kind words soothed the hurt inside, just a little bit. Max rose up, leaned in and hugged her close, kissing the top of her head. "Thanks. Um. Leave the plate? I think I'll come back for the rest a little later. So I'll clean the table too, okay?"

"Huh. Still as sweet as I remember you being. Thank you, I could use the break. Got plenty of cleanups coming my way later this afternoon."

With that, Max walked out of the house and into the yard.

* * *

It was almost exactly like she remembered it: white picket fence, swing sets. Even the old backdrop painting she and Chloe made together, all those years ago, tucked away near the back. Worn and faded by time, but still hanging on...

She sat down on one of the creaky swings, immediately overcome by a wave of nostalgia. If she didn't know better, she swore she could hear voices; Chloe's and her's. Back when they were kids, playing pirates together.

She rubbed at her eyes, and choked back a sob, still not sure why the fuck she was so upset.

 _So what? So you kissed Chloe. She dared you to kiss her, because...she missed her girlfriend, and you looked like her. I mean, it's not like that's a reason to be angry at my best friend. The one I'm probably never gonna see again after today._

If that was true, why was part of her so anxious to leave? And why couldn't she help but feel a tiny bit...humiliated?

She resisted the urge to punch something hard, and instead rose to her feet. She walked towards the middle of the yard, and tried to still her mind before she started with her tai chi routine; just as she'd done almost every day for the past four years. The way Cammie taught her.

It helped...sorta. Kinda. Sanded away the sharpest edges of her emotional fury and brought at least a surface tranquility for the moment. Of everything she was actively taught or otherwise learned during her time in the Damocles Initiative, the tai chi was one of the few bits she considered worthwhile. She enjoyed how it forced her to stop, to root her mind in the present moment. For someone who could travel back to the past, or change their actions based on future events, something like that was essential. Vital. It kept her mind focused and her body flexible, but she most appreciated that it didn't have to exist solely for the purposes of turning her into some sort of combat monster.

She'd always appreciate how Cammie insisted she learn it, for that very reason.

 _Oh. Cammie._

She desperately wished she could talk to the woman who'd played teacher, mentor, and sometimes foster mother over the last few years of her life. Looking past the fact that she was still part and parcel of the organization that kept her imprisoned for almost a third of her life, Max couldn't help but feel like Davies would be able to explain to her what was up in her head and her heart. Or at least listen sympathetically.

 _Where are you now, I wonder? Are you looking for me? Or maybe you're happy I finally got away, and it's only Nicole searching now? And...and what about Alanna? God, I can't believe I actually miss them. Thinking about them, like they're my fucking family or something._

She lost track of time as she flowed through her forms, concentrating on one to the next, wrapped up in her thoughts. Despite or perhaps because of her inward focus, she was eventually able to sense Chloe trying to sneak up on her. Max waited until the last possible moment; even with her eyes closed, she was able to anticipate and intercept the other girl's clumsy attempt at surprising her. She rolled her over her back and shoulder, and then depositing Chloe down onto the ground on her back.

"Ooooof! Owwww...damnit, Max. I know you're an awesome spy and everything, but can't you let me win one?" Chloe coughed, as she worked on getting the wind back into her lungs.

Max straightened up, slowly opened her eyes and gave a gentle sigh. The worst of whatever anger she felt for Chloe dissipated, like morning fog burning off in the sun. She smirked, proclaiming, "Mess with the tigress, you get the claws." She reached down, offering a hand, helping Chloe clamber back onto her feet.

Chloe shook her head and laughed, "Crazy ninja magic and shit. Hey! So...so..." she reached up nervously fidgeting and fiddling with her beanie. "Before we hit the road, maybe you could take a few minutes, and teach me some cool moves? You know, because if I'm out living a new life on my own soon, don't know what kind of assholes I might run into. And then I can say something like, 'Hey! Don't fuck with me. I was trained by secret government spies! Sorta.'"

Max grimaced, but smiled all the same. She was determined to put aside whatever remaining hurt was still lingering in her heart; what Chloe said drove it home. Soon, they'd be apart. Maybe forever. These remaining minutes and hours, what little time fate saw fit to bless them with, were inconceivably precious. Whatever oddness - for lack of a better word - that got injected into their friendship by the kiss was just best left forgotten.

"Chloe, I can't teach you how to defend yourself in a few minutes. Some of this shit is dangerous in the hands of a total amateur. You could accidentally kill someone, or get yourself hurt."

The punk girl deployed a fearsome set of puppy dog eyes, prompting Max to turn away and laugh. "Oh God...noooo...nooo.." When the whimpering started, Max relented. "Okay! Okay. I guess I could teach you a couple of easy Aikido moves as a parting gift."'

Feigning outrage, Chloe threw up her hands and said, "Wh-aaaaa-t? Aikido? Isn't that Japanese for 'wussy'? C'mon! I want serious power-ninja shit! Like...Five Fingered Killing Palm Of The Crying Buddha!" Chloe struck several ridiculous faux fighting stances as she continued, "Lightning Kitten Strike! Kung-Pao Upside Yo Head!"

Max did her best to keep from completely dissolving into giggles. Holding out her arms in a totally casual stance, she smiled invitingly and waved Chloe towards her. "Fine. Aikido is for wussies, huh? Well, come at me, bro." She then held out an arm, flicking the tips of her fingers in a kung-fu come-hither motion.

Chloe paused as she sheepishly admitted. "Noooo. Now I'm too damn scared!"

"Chloe, I promise I won't hurt you. At least not physically. Your pride may suffer, but you'll learn something cool."

Shuffling from foot to foot to psyche herself up, Chloe suddenly ran at Max, telegraphing her intentions a mile away: a foolhardy attempt to slug her. Catching the other girl, and using her momentum against her, Max expertly grabbed one arm, rolled her around to where her front was pressed against Chloe's back, where she could gain leverage.

"Ahhhhhhoooowuch! M-max...k-kinda hurts there." Chloe huffed out nervously.

"Just want to make a point. You see how I have your arm in kind of a weird lever position?"

"Uh - hah - yeah...?"

"I don't have to pull hard at this point to snap the bone clean while throwing you down to the ground; your body weight does most of the job for me. It also means that if you try to escape, you'll probably have to break your own arm to do it. So...now what do you think?"

"I've got nothing but mad love for the Aikido now, just leave my arm intact, okay?" Chloe laughed, as Max reassured her by loosening her grip, just a bit...

...but not all the way.

Only now, she noticed just how close together the two of them were, and it reminded Max of when she first woke up. Only now there was a physical tension between them, almost like an electric ache. She leaned her head in, and could smell Chloe's skin and hair, closed her eyes...

"...M-Max? Hey. You gonna let me go?"

Jerked out of whatever reverie she was falling into, she quickly disengaged, allowing Chloe to step away. There was a blush coloring her cheeks, that possibly matched the burning sensation Max felt over her face. They shared a knowing glance, but said nothing more. Chloe's dare, and that abortive sorta-kinda kiss they shared flashed up in memory; Max did her best to brush it all aside.

Swallowing, Max said, "Uhm. So. I gotta pack, and then I guess we should leave. Do you mind taking me to Portland? I know that's a lot to ask, but..."

"No!" Chloe interjected. "Er. I mean. No, that's not. I'll take you anywhere you wanna go, Max."

Again, the pair of them stared silently at each other. The theory of their time together was one thing; fitting into the reality of it was quite another.

"So hey, let me show you a few more things, okay? Nothing fancy, mostly defensive, but it might help you out someday, right?"

Chloe just nodded, giving an almost relieved smile. "Yeah."

The next hour and a half turned into an impromptu training session, Max doing her best to impart what basic knowledge she could in such a short span of time. By the end of it, they were laughing, joking and plotting, and most of the strangeness created by the morning's events was forgotten.

But with every piece of clothing folded up and stuffed into the duffle bag, Max struggled to keep from bursting into tears. The real possibility that this was the last time she'd ever lay eyes on this room again was more than she could bear. As the minutes ticked by, Max looked for some excuse, any excuse, to delay the inevitable. And every time, she came back to the same answer.

 _I have to keep Chloe and her family safe. I gotta get out of here._

She said her goodbyes to Joyce; sent her regrets to David, who was working to maintain order at Blackwell in the wake of yesterday's excitement, and then clambered into Chloe's truck.

"So...I guess this is it, huh?" Chloe asked.

Max could only nod, looking away to quickly swipe the tears away from her eyes. "Yeah. All good things come to an end."

Chloe started to say something, but it got caught in her throat. Stared out at her housed, paused for a good five seconds, and then finally backed the truck out of the driveway, before glumly plotting her way out of town. Max started out the passenger side window, mourning how quickly everything passed. From a subjective viewpoint, it wasn't even seventy-two hours since she was toasting her so-called 'new freedom' with Cammie and Alanna, and wondering what Chloe was up to; back to that night where she consigned herself to never seeing her old friend again.

That was the worst part of getting what she wanted; it wasn't enough. It left her wanting more. She wanted to dare to dream, that she could stay here forever, and that the S.O.A.P. would conveniently 'give up' looking for her. But life wasn't fair.

She knew that much, better than most.

* * *

 ** _A/N:_** Hey Gang, it's Black Swan Satu...! Oh wait, no. It's Friday again, isn't it?

You know, I don't know what it is, but I've decided that I actually like publishing on Friday afternoon much more than immediately past midnight on Saturday. So with that said, I believe I am going to make Friday the new publishing date for the series, unless folks suddenly speak up and tell me otherwise. Enjoy!

So this is, of course, The Wednesday Arc. I'm sure a lot of people were waiting for this particular moment. I'm sure almost as many people are now going "Hey! Lyta! No fair teasing us like that!". It's true. I am a cruel and capricious WriterBitch (tm), but I promise you...this is the day. This is where the magic happens, one way or the other. :)

So I have kind of a big announcement next week. Don't worry, it's nothing like a surprise hiatus stuck in the middle or anything 'bad' per se - trust me, I _just_ finished up the first draft of chapter 33, so we are good for weeks - but it's definitely a change up, and I want to give it its proper due...which will happen next week.

Have a great weekend!


	28. The Precious Years I'll Never Get Back

Max did her best to ignore the barbed wire wending its way around her heart as she watched Arcadia Bay pass by. She was unable to resist asking Chloe to slow down as they passed by her old house. The new owners repainted it, from its previously understated hunter green to a more vibrant royal blue, and there was a fancy looking Prius in the driveway, along with a new playground set in the backyard. Grass that was fertilized within an inch of its life until it was unnaturally verdant for late autumn completed the aura of surreality surrounding her childhood home.

 _It's almost like it never happened; that there was never a family named Caulfield who lived in that house. And there wasn't a girl named Max, who spent thirteen happy years there. They just wipe it all out, like changing history._

The awkward silence grew heavier between Chloe and her. A couple of times, her friend made abortive attempts at small talk, but Max couldn't bring herself to follow through. It was a cruel paradox: she knew intellectually that she should be treasuring each and every second together that was left. At the same time, she couldn't bring herself to open up; the pain of potentially never seeing each other again, that each mile brought them ever closer to was becoming increasingly unbearable.

 _How can I just chat away, and pretend that my heart isn't breaking? Bad enough that I...I misunderstood what happened this morning?_

She was still trying to make heads or tails of the "Kissing Incident" from earlier. What was that about? And what was Chloe trying to do? Was it just her playing around, or was there more to it? Max, bereft as she was of normal teenage social skills, could only analyze the situation with whatever psychological evaluation skills she possessed as part of her training.

 _Fat lot of good all that is doing me right now!_

The fact that she was still hung up on the issue had to mean something, right? It wasn't like it was more than just a fractional pressing of lips together. Chloe made a dare, and Max figured that she didn't expect her to follow through. It caught her by surprise. That's all.

And yet...

 _Okay. Let's do a little thought experiment here. Just like all that 'mental simulation-slash-thinking outside the box' shit Davies and Reese taught you._

Max closed her eyes, and leaned against the passenger side window. She hugged herself tight before focusing her awareness inward.

 _Alright. So you're in the bedroom. Chloe is being all.._

Cute? Gorgeous? A sight for sore eyes? With her tattoos and the blue-violet hair. Max couldn't deny how the last five years transformed her, from the playful yet studious blonde into the delightfully twisted but sadly cynical punk rock girl she was today. The way she cocked her hips, and how she didn't fucking care about what people thought about her...most of the time.

 _...she dares you to kiss her. And you do. So what happens Max? What happens if she doesn't back away?_

She took a few deep breaths, and stilled the storm of thoughts raging in her brain as best she could, drawing upon the same sort of meditative mindset that she'd cultivated through all those years of Tai Chi.

Max let her imagination play the events out, working to separate her own 'active participation' in the thought exercise. She would let her brain do whatever the hell it naturally was inclined to.

 _Chloe doesn't pull away this time. She blushes though, before smiling against that sweet little kiss, and murmurs, "Wow! I-I didn't know you felt that way, Maxima. I mean, I kinda hoped..."_

 _Their eyes meet. Unspoken tension hangs between them, like a tight and winding cord that binds the two of them together. Their second kiss seems far more natural. As well as the third. Chloe takes charge now, and Max feels those arms surrounding her, pulling her close, making her feel safe, and secure and...and..._

 _There's not enough experience or detail, Max can't figure out exactly what happens next, but all she knows is that Chloe is trailing kisses down her neck, and throat. Hands are eagerly and insistantly rubbing her back. Max can smell her, and savor her warmth. She wants her shirt off. She want's Chloe's shirt off. She wants to trail her greedy, curious fingertips over the swell of her best friend's breast, bury her face against her neck and hair. She needs her, and she prays fervently that maybe Chloe needs her, almost as much, in return. And why shouldn't she? You like me, don't you Chloe? You 'like' me, like me? Why didn't you kiss me back? What don't I have that_ **she** _did?!_

Max jerked her eyes open, gasping sharply, lungs sucking in great amounts of air, as if she were drowning. The crystallizing, clarifying stab of her sudden epiphany reverberated up and down her entire body.

"Whoa, Max. You - uh - okay?"

She laughed nervously, and nodded, a little too fast. "Uh huh. Yeah! Just...yeahI'mgood."

Chloe didn't seem convinced, but she didn't press the issue.

 _What. The. Fuck? What the hell was that, brain? Seriously! What did you just show me?_

 _Oh my God. Am I...do I like other..._

No. No no no! That was...Max was being dumb. She wasn't, you know. Gay. Or something. How could she even know _what_ she was? It wasn't like she ever had the opportunity for dating. Certainly, she'd never felt any past attraction towards other...

 _Her eyes linger overlong on Alanna's generous bust, the curves covered in shimmery black satin as the older woman tells her goodnight._

 _She watches transfixed as Cammie does her inverted sit ups in the gym, clad in little more than a sports bra and spandex leggings. Chalks it up to simple hero worship at the time..._

Max's eyes went wide.

 _Fuuuuuuuuuuck._

 _Fuck!_

 _Why, mind, why?! Why now? This is_ not _the fucking time for me to realize I'm gay, or bi, or whatever the hell!_

Max was so goddamn furious at her brain, she could just kill it! She clamped down on her mouth, trying not to burst out laughing at the utter ridiculousness of it all.

Of everything.

Suddenly, for the first time in her life, she felt like an actual adult, a real person, not the socially stunted woman-child that the last five years shaped her into. The more she let her mind ruminate on the possibility of her sexuality, the more she felt secure in her instincts, down to her core.

 _So...so_ now _what the hell do I do?_

She felt the urge to stick her head out the window and shout: "Hey world! I think I might like girls!". She glanced over sideways to Chloe, and struggled with the overwhelming urge to ask her to pull the truck over to the side of the road, to giddily spill out her feelings, share what she'd just experienced in what would no doubt be a long and rambling stream of consciousness.

This was important! This was, really, because...she learned something about herself, just now. Something vital, and immutable. She'd been transformed by the experience. In the blink of an eye. The old Max was gone, just like that old childhood house back in Arcadia Bay. New Max sat in her place. Max 2.0. A Maxier Max, more aware of herself, and now an adult, and...

...and maybe hella gay.

Even if she wasn't so sure about that, she was absolutely certain about something else.

 _If I'm not a lesbian, I'm still totally Chloesexual._

It all made so much sense to her now. So many disparate pieces and feelings and confused moments all gelled together in perfect accord.

She wanted to share this, all of this, with her best friend. And maybe, share something more.

But no.

That wasn't for her.

Everything happening to her right now, everything she wanted, everything she needed or thought she needed, belonged to regular people. Normal ones. The mundane and the gloriously small.

None of this was meant for demi-goddesses named Max Caulfield.

The last thing Chloe needed to hear was something like: "I think I'm gay, or at least gay for you, and I'm really sad that I may never see you again, and can't otherwise act on my feelings because safety reasons. So have a nice life, Chloe Price."

All Max could do at the moment was take that bright, brilliant maelstrom of emotion and self-discovery and crush it. Hard. Into a tiny little ball. One she could put up on a shelf in her mind, where it would be far less inconvenient, at least for now. And as she worked to chain down that ebullience, that vital need to scream out and say 'Hey world! Here I am! I just figured out something big!' she could feel herself resisting the effort.

She won the fight.

She lost the fight.

She fell somewhere into the middle; an emotional stalemate.

"Max are you _sure_ you're okay?" Chloe asked again.

A mask of bittersweet emotion fell over her face, as her fingers wrapped possessively around the bullets hanging from the precious necklace, the one Chloe gave her. "I'm...fine, Che. Just sad, you know? Because it's all coming to an end. That's all."

For the first time in her life, Max mourned at how good she'd become at lying. To everyone but herself.

* * *

Fifteen minutes later, Chloe started to pull off down a side road that Max wasn't familiar with.

"Hey, where we going?"

Chloe smiled impishly, "Ooooh. I brought the box of your old gear with us. There's a junkyard right here, on the edge of town. Just the place to bury your past. And...and I used to hang out a lot here, and thought I could show you a few things. I mean, you're not hella rushing to Portland today, are you?"

Max considered the situation. Chloe had a point; it wasn't as if she were on any specific timetable. The detour gave them more time together, which was a good - marvelous, really - and bad thing. But it served an important purpose, and if nothing else, it would probably be cathartic, getting rid of the last of her Damocles trappings.

Seeing as how she wasn't responding immediately, Chloe apparently thought to sweeten the deal, as she announced in a sing-song voice, "I brought matches and liiiighter fluid."

Laughing, Max shook her head, "Alright, yes! Although setting things on fire might not be the best idea. I don't want to consider the chemicals they used to make my weird bulletproof tunic, and burning it could kill us, or worse."

"Or give us a killer buzz?"

"Chloe..." Max groaned.

"Hah. Kidding. A gangster style burial it is then!"

Chloe parked close, but still far enough that walking was required. Quickly grabbing the cardboard box of old gear, she lead the way. As they approached the junkyard, Max marveled at the fact that the place seemed wholly unguarded, and completely abandoned. But beyond that, she couldn't help but feel an increasing sense of deja vu, the closer the two of them came. She tried her best to shake it off, but the notion wouldn't leave her be. Unsure of what to make of it, she decided to ignore it until she had reason not to.

As they stepped into the junkyard itself, Chloe raised her arms, and proclaimed, "Welcome to American Rust. My home away from Hell."

It was a medium-sized field, bordered by conifers, and absolutely littered with rusting hulks of busses and cars, oil drums, refrigerators; everything that society used up and then cast away when it was done with it. Max could see why Chloe might have more than a passing familiarity with the place.

"Raw and rough." Max drawled. "It suits you." She looked around, the sense of intense familiarity still not dissipating. "So this was your secret hideout?"

"Yeah! I've even got an awesome Fortress of Chloetude in here. I just...I started coming here, about a year or two after you left - er - I mean, when those assholes took you away. This was my own little queendom. You would have liked it, you know? Anyhow, this place was - is - special to me. Plus the fact that it's also the best place to get rid of incriminating evidence - not the first time I've done that kinda thing, by the way. But I always wanted to share this with you. Now I can!

"Well, it does have a certain kind of serenity to it." Max admitted. "Stillness. Like, I feel we're just outside of the rest of reality. Someplace no one could find us, as long as we stayed here. Like it's, you know, an enchanted glade or - or - a graveya-" She suddenly stopped dead in her tracks.

There was a spot off in the corner, where they were passing. The ground was disturbed recently, like maybe someone else had the same idea they did, and buried something they wanted to hide forever. It was too big, and too neat for it to be an animal burying food.

" _S-sorry."_

" _It was a really nice service, Chloe. It was...nice."_

Max didn't feel herself trip, didn't notice the fall until the last second, as she sprawled out, confusing images flashing in and out of her mind. Something happened here, something terrible. She was sure of that much, but nothing else.

"Whoa! Max!" Chloe cried out with concern. She reached down, gripping her by the shoulders, trying to help her back onto her feet. "Are you okay? What's wrong, what happened?" As Max looked into her eyes, she could see it: the genuine worry, the protectiveness. Except...

 _...it's so hard now! To see how she looks at me, and wonder if there's anything more than friendship behind that gaze._

She blinked, coming back to herself. "I - I'm fine. Sorry, I didn't get much sleep. Probably a little stoned too, you know." Chloe didn't seem entirely convinced, so Max upped the reassurance factor. Giving her a winning smile, she shrugged. "Hey, I tripped. Even secret agents are allowed to screw up now and then. But...let's get to wherever you want to do this. Something about this place creeps me out." She glanced again at the patch of freshly disturbed earth, and slunk away. Whatever mental serpents that were stirred up now slithered back into the dark corners of her mind. Max could take the time to hunt them down, but that would mean less time with Chloe. It wasn't like she was coming back to this place ever again, and not every mystery needed to be solved.

At least, that's what she kept telling herself.

Ultimately, the two of them found a dark, shady spot, in a tiny cul-de-sac formed by several rusted out junkers. Chloe snagged an old garden spade, and Max made use of a bent street sign as an impromptu shovel. Together, they dug down roughly three feet.

"There, doesn't have to be too deep. I mean, it's not like we're burying a body out here, right Max?" Chloe snorted with amusement. "Uh...are you _sure_ you're okay? You just went hella pale there."

She certainly felt like all the blood drained out of her face, at the mention of bodies. She shook her head stridently and insisted, "I'm good, totally good, Che. No worries. Let's just - let's just bury this shit, okay? I never want to see it again." Max focused on the task at hand, stroking up the fires of anger and resentment smoldering inside, aggressively tossing dirt onto the box, until it disappeared. She didn't even notice that Chloe backed off, as if sensing this was a cathartic experience Max wanted all to herself.

"Ha ha! Yeah, let it out, girl! You're no one's slave or toy anymore. You're your own woman! Viva Max!" Chloe punched up a triumphant fist in the air.

She couldn't help but smile at her friend's enthusiastic enjoyment of the act, and for the first time since they arrived at the junkyard, she was enjoying herself as well. But that moment was fleeting, and done too soon.

"Alright. It's over. Let's get the hell out of here."

Chloe seemed hurt by her insistent desire to be elsewhere. "Maaax! C'mon. Please? Seriously, this is like my only chance to show you this place. It's really special and I want to share it. I mean, you can just give me a little more time here, right?" She then planted her fists on her hips, "Like, shit. Why you wanna leave so quick anyhow?"

Max sighed heavily, smiling sadly. She looked her over, and flashed back to a time when they were kids; Chloe used to strike that same pose when she was insistent about doing something her way. And Max found she was just as powerless against it now as she was when she was seven.

Maybe more so.

Holding up her hands in apology, she said, "Okay. You're right, sorry. I dunno Chloe. There's just something about this place that's really unsettling to me. Something that's..."

 _No. Don't tell her what's going on in your head. She'll want to investigate, or...I just want us to have a nice time! What little of it we have left to spend together._

She shook her head. "It doesn't matter. Show me, Chloe. I wanna see this place through your eyes."

"Yah-hah!" Chloe cheered in triumph, grabbed her hand, and led her towards a cinderblock bunker, one in surprisingly good shape. Max tried to ignore what holding hands was doing to her right now; it was as if close proximity to the blunette was overstimulating, let along being in such casual physical contact. The fact that she understood it all now, or thought she did, only made things worse.

And yet, at the same time, so awesome!

* * *

When they made their way into the bunker, Max looked around and whistled low.

 _I gotta give her credit, it looks like she spent a lot of time setting the place up._

Everything was junky, ramshackle, but there was a hominess that Max could just wrap herself up in and never want to let go. Wooden boards and cinder blocks joined with cable spools to form benches, tables and shelves. Vinyl covered bucket seats joined in, and there were posters, and a dartboard and graffiti..and...and.

It was all so Chloe! Every bit of it. She'd taken all this ugly refuse, all these broken, castaway things, and given them new life and purpose. Max turned around slowly and was struck by one all consuming notion. This was art: living, breathing, passionate. Everyday and once in a lifetime. Mundane and exquisite.

It was far greater than the sum of its humble parts.

Max sank to her knees, hugging herself tight. She didn't mean to start crying, but couldn't help herself. The tears wouldn't stop. She tried to understand why it affected her so deeply; what could possibly be so special about this stupid, glorious place? It was nothing but junk, some burned out, forgotten, decrepit...wonderful island of splendor. An empire unto itself.

Chloe kneeled down next to her, encircling her in her arms and said, "Now I _know_ something's wrong! What is it, Max? Please, please tell me."

Despite herself, Max leaned in, savoring the closeness, and sobbed, her voice splintering with emotion, "It's...this is it, Chloe! A-all those years, all that time. Stolen by those...those fucks!" Her voice shrilled up an octave, as she frustratedly worked to make it all pour out. "Everything we saw before this, everything we did was kinda a trip down memory lane. Nostalgia and all that but this!" She held out an arm, waving it around the room. "This is the new! This is what we _could_ have had, Chloe! What might have been. Because you know it, you know you would have found it, and it would have been cool, and we could have hung out here and...and..."

She continued sobbing, eyes closed tightly as visions of a past that never was and should have been danced in her head. Chloe would find the place, bring her here, so proud to show it off. Max would be hesitant at first, only seeing the filth, the grime, the danger, but Chloe would make her understand. The potential and the freedom it represented. This would be the place they made their stand, where they would find themselves and establish their own identities through the tempestuous waters of their teenage years. And then maybe they would have gotten drunk here the first time, or stoned. They could have played their music as loud as they wanted, danced as crazy as they wished.

And maybe, just maybe...

 _Our first kiss would have been here. A warm night, in the summer. August, you know, right before school started._

"Why, Chloe?" Max whimpered. "Why? It's not fair, it's _not fair!_ I didn't want to hurt anyone. I didn't do anything bad. Never...never deserved it. Any of it!" She suddenly tilted her head back and let out a primal roar of deep-seated hatred. Of rage, and frustration. And of mourning. For all the precious years she'd never get back.

"Christ. I'm a time traveller, but I can't go and get my past back." Max gulped, and shook violently.

Chloe cradled her head, looking like she wasn't far from tears herself, her eyes wet and shining. "Max. Oh God, Max. You've had to be strong for so long. You've always been stronger than me, always. But..." She paused, stroking her hair. "Jesus, how do I even..?" She sighed, sounding defeated for a moment, before trying again.

"You can't change the past. You can't take it back. I mean shit, _you_ taught me that, just yesterday. I thought I had _the best_ plan to fix my life, change the past. I pushed you into making it reality. I figured it was gonna be so great, and I'd get back all that time I lost with my Dad. I mean, fuck, I did, but look what happened! You know better than me. You helped me see that Max, that life is just...fucking terrible, and unfair, but it's so amazing too, you know? It can be. The universe gave you this power, and you saved lives! That's more than most people can do, or even try to. And for all the shitty, terrible stuff that happened, it's like...maybe the world is trying to make it up to you now. By letting you escape. Go and find a new life, all your own. You have to be good with what you have now, and try to make the future better and fuuuck! I'm sorry, I suck so hard at being inspiring, or comforting or..." she trailed off.

Max shook her head emphatically, and hugged Chloe tight, not wanting to ever let go.

"You're my best friend, Chloe." Max proclaimed, her voice growing steadier by the moment, as she reached up to wipe her eyes and cheeks. "You will never not make me happy, or cheer me up, or see...amazing things." She reached up, fingers playing at cerulean strands of hair. Every instinct was yelling at her to kiss her again, right there, for real this time.

And it destroyed her, bit by bit, to push all of that back into the tiny prison her passion burst free from. Instead, she turned her head away, rubbed her nose, and glanced down. "Amazing things like this place. I'm really...glad that you brought me here. Sorry for being all crazy and whiny about wanting to leave quick. So..so let's hang out here, just for a little bit, okay?"

Nodding, and holding out her hands towards the largest chair in the room, Chloe said, "Help yourself to the seat of honor, m'lady." Max plopped heavily down onto it, doing her best to ignore how filthy it was. It was good though. Real. She still wasn't used to breathing such fresh air, after years of the recycled stuff, or living out in natural light.

 _I could do with a little less 'clean' in my life._

Chloe joined her at one of the smaller lounge chairs, pulled out her phone, and started to stream some angry sounding punk rock music, cranking the tinny little speaker up to maximum volume. She flashed a winning smile back to her and said, "See. Pretty good, huh? Maybe not quite authentic, and in the moment, or whatever fancy art lingo photographers use, but...good, right?"

Max smiled, and gave a deep, contented sigh. "Yeah. It's great, Chloe. I can see why you spent so much time here." Glancing down, Max took note of some of the debris strewn near her on the ground. Shards of an old CD, the biggest chunk of which bore the label "-chel song-". In a firepit nearby, the charred remains of some sort of cloth could be seen, with scorched "R" and "C" charms hanging limply off, along with torn scraps of what appeared to be photo booth pictures of Chloe with another girl. one she couldn't fully make out.

Glancing over her shoulder, she spotted the words, "Chloe was here." scribbled in black Sharpie. Underneath, was what Max assumed was a companion statement : Rachel was here. But the words were angrily overwritten in red marker by the phrase "BITCH!", vibrating with angry intent.

Glancing down at herself, the clothes she wore, Max couldn't help but inquire, "So can I ask about the mysterious Rachel Amber? It's obviously painful, but she seems like such a big and heavy presence in your life. I mean, until recently? Feel like I'm standing in the shadow of her ghost, or something."

Chloe snorted, pulling out a joint, lighting it up and taking a long drag, before holding it out for her. "Shit. Still too painful but..." she shook her head. "If it was anyone else, Max, I'd tell them to fuck off. But you...you deserve to hear about it." She swallowed hard, wetting her lips and scrubbing her hands together nervously. "So we met a couple years ago, I guess. Christmas, I think. Yeah, yeah, must have been, because I was at the diner, right after I went over to your parent's house for - for the last time." She gave an apologetic smile at that, and continued. "And we met. It's - ah - huh. Hard, you know. To try and talk about the good stuff. Last week, I wouldn't have been able to, but maybe now I'm ready. Because it _was_ good. I needed a friend, right at that time, and we...Rachel was amazing." She winced, rubbing the back of her neck, and rocking back in her chair. "Not amazing like you, obviously, but she has this kind of charisma, this glow. A way of making you feel like you were something special; no matter how small _you_ thought you were, she'd make you believe otherwise."

Max took a drag of her own, then handed the joint back, motioning for Chloe to continue.

"But it was weird in the beginning. The first month or two, sometimes it feel like I was betraying you somehow. But maybe I only feel that way now, with you here, and trying to remember back. Mostly, I was angry, and so fucking alone, and Rachel got me. She really got me, and she was going somewhere, and we were going to go to that somewhere together. Her and me. We were going to travel the world. Do all the things that - well - that you and me always talked about doing, when we grew up.

Max bit down on her bottom lip, swallowing against the lump of emotion in her throat. It was hard, listening to this. Painful. Part of her wanted to be furious. Viciously so, about the pretender that came in, and swooped up her spot in Chloe's life. But another, much larger part of her...

"...I'm glad you found a good friend, Chloe. You didn't know what the hell was going on, and if you waited three years without hearing from me, well. Fuck. I mean, I probably...you know. I probably would have. Too."

They shared a knowing, sadly uneasy smile together at this.

"Maybe. Except I know you'd never fucking betray me...!" Chloe's voice rose up, and she slammed her fist against her leg, trying to calm down. "...betray me the way she did."

"What happened? I still don't understand."

"Well, first off, she started hanging out with Victoria Chase. Like, a lot. I mean, I know Rachel's a social butterfly and I wasn't the be all-end all of her world. Um. I mean, I _was_ really important, I hope? But...that wasn't it, as much as I might have been jealous. No, it's when she suddenly disappeared this past April. Out of the blue. Victoria kinda did, too, at the same time. No word from Rachel, none at all, no...no _fucking idea_ what happened to her. For a while I was convinced Victoria straight up killed her or something, and ran away to cover it up." Chloe's voice was rich with wounded pride, angered betrayal. "I just...I mean...I just." She started to sniffle, then gave way to an abortive, choked sob.

"It was like losing _you_ all over again, Max. Except they gave me a bullshit story about you being happy and away at some fancy prep school, so at least I knew you were still alive. No, Rachel just cut out, and I had no idea if she was alive or dead. And no one seemed to care about her, except me! No one!" She thumped her chest angrily. " _I_ put up posters for her, _I_ asked everyone in a thirty mile radius if they saw her, or knew what was going on. I..." the tears started to roll, one by one, down her cheek, and Chloe quickly wiped her face with one hand. "I was alone. All alone. Again. I knew my Dad, my real Dad would care. Or...or you. But I didn't have either of you anymore. And fuck, I got into all this debt with that asshole, Frank, trying to get my truck fixed, driving around looking around for her. Which, oh, by the way, I think Rachel was somehow involved with him too, but...but probably just stringing him along for drugs. She did like to party, more than me even."

Max leaned over, taking Chloe's hand in hers and squeezing tight. The contact was such blissfully agony. She didn't want to let go, and it was killing her to be so close and not do more, but Chloe needed her as a friend, as a shoulder to cry on, above all else.

Chloe squeezed back, gaining the strength to continue, "Last month, she called me on the phone. And I'm sure you can imagine how relieved I was, to hear from her." She threw a hand up in the air, tossed her head back and gave a clipped laugh. "It felt like a goddamn miracle, and everything was going to be okay! But it fell apart so...so fast. She was all, "Sorry, but I ran into some crazy shit." and "No, sorry, not sure when I can see you again, probably best we just not hang out. Too hard to explain why." and I...I just couldn't believe it. Was like she turned into a whole different person! My Rachel, and she..."

Chloe trembled, staring straight ahead, tears dripping from her face, as she squeaked out, "...she turned _me_ away! Or...or maybe I just didn't know her so well after all, and I learned what a _fucking idiot_ I was for ever..."

"You loved her." Max said.

She didn't mean to, but it slipped out.

Chloe paused, as if struck dumb. After a few seconds, she ruefully nodded. "I - I think I did, Max. God. Fuck. Does that shock you? I mean, that maybe I have a thing for girls?"

It took a supremely monumental effort for Max not to shout, "I think maybe I do too!", grab Chloe by the head, tackle her, kiss her, and then...something...something.

 _Don't! Don't do this to her, don't make it harder for her. You have to leave, you have to run, you have to keep her safe. No matter how much it tears you up inside._

"You're Chloe." she said. "Nothing will ever change that. Not for me. Not ever."

Chloe glowed, for one brief, bright moment, eyes shining with gratitude, before she continued. "Th-thanks. Uh. Yeah. The love part. That's what made it so hard. I mean, I'm not a moron. Pretty sure she didn't feel _exactly_ the same way, but I thought I meant _something_ to her. Some damn little, thing! And then Victoria was back for school, but she just blew me off, the couple of times I tried to ask her about Rachel. I got in a real dark, obsessive place for a little while. It got kind of nasty at one point, like we were going to throw down, but I didn't want to...turn it into this bullshit catfight. So. Anyhow. The rest is obvious. Chloe gets hurt, Chloe lashes out and destroys the world around her. I'm awesome at that shit." She shrugged. "Was it karma, Max? This whole morning, I've wondered. Was it the universe punishing me for not being a better friend to you? For not waiting, like I should have. For...for giving up on you?"

Chloe hugged herself, and seemed so small and young. For a second, Max saw her as she did that day her powers Emerged. Alone, vulnerable. Grieving.

Max reached over, hugging close. "If you want to know if I'm angry at you, I'm not. Not really. I think I'm giving up trying to figure out what the fuck the universe expects out of us. How to act, and how to react. Can't help wonder if shit is going on that seems cruel to us on the surface, but we don't fully appreciate the lesson until we're older."

Chloe snuggled in for a few seconds, laughing through her tears. "You make it sound like the universe is a bitchy Mom trying to get us to eat our veggies."

"Ha ha! Yeah, kinda. Makes as much sense as anything else, right?"

Chloe pulled back, just enough to face her, bowed her head, and in a quiet voice, said, "I'm sorry, Max. Still. Can't help but feel like I failed a test. Like I failed you. Should have waited. Should have..." She trailed off, shrugging.

"And then what? Get deeper into your depression and more lonely and bitter? It sounds like for all the bullshit she pulled, Rachel really helped lift you up, at least for a little bit. I mean, yeah, maybe part of me wanted to be in her shoes. And part of me would seriously like to gouge her fucking eyes out for getting all those awesome teenage years I wanted with you." She said the last part with an eerie, faux sweetness. But she more than enjoyed the laugh it got from Chloe.

"She ain't was no good for you inna end, Che." she continued, hamming it up with a hillbilly accent. Chloe was rolling in her chair with laughter at this.

"Ah! God! Max, staaahp! Oh damn." Chloe wiped away the last of her tears, reached over to give one last firm hug, and sighed. The look on her face suggested there were a million more things she wanted to convey; instead, she reached over, grabbing a worn black marker, placing it in Max's hand.

"I believe there's a wall over there, waiting for your mark, Ms. Supah-Spyee."

Max, grinned happily. "Really?" She turned around, gazing over hungrily at a blank spot, just below Rachel's overwritten signature, indulging the possessive part of her that couldn't help but feel like she was making a claim. She stood, and walked over, wondering what to put down. 'That's right, Chloe is mine forever, you stupid bitch.' seemed exciting, but too risky. Instead, she uncapped the marker, and slowly wrote:

'Max wanted to be here the whole time.'

"And you're finally here now, Maxima." Chloe smirked, leaning forward from her chair. She quickly scrubbed at her face and eyes with her shirt, composing herself. "Too bad you know? You having to leave. This would have made an awesome MaxCave, our secret hideout where we plot our next attack against the forces of evil and conformity."

Max could only nod.

 _Oh God. Don't tempt me. Don't remind me what I could have, if I just could stop running._

They spent the next half hour, listening to music, dancing, playing darts, laughing and enjoying each others company, before Chloe suddenly announced. "Okay! One or two more things, okay? And then I guess we should be good and hit the road again. But just a couple more things, right?"

Max nodded, "Sure, Che. Anything is good."

As the two of them exited the old bunker, Max spared a final glance behind. Probably the last time she'd ever see the place. In her mind's eye, she saw a brief flash of herself and Chloe walking out, hand in hand, giggling and looking at each other with goofy expressions.

What might have been.

She turned, eyes forward, to face the reality of what actually was.

* * *

 _A/N:_ *Japanese anime villainess laugh* Ho ho ho ho! Suffer, readers, as I drive Lesbian Angst to new and punishing levels. Nya ha ha!

But seriously, you know something's gotta give sooner than later. Also: Poor Max, so close, yet so far. On multiple levels.

Anyhow, I mentioned last week that I had a bit of a bittersweet announcement...though I don't think I used that exact word. Long story short, I'm afraid that I'm losing my editor, at least for a while. **Corentin IV** actually has a real life, believe it or not, one filled with excitement and intrigue and I think maybe legal paperwork? Suffice it to say, there's been a little too much intrigue of the career sort lately, and she literally does not have the time for a life outside her job, so sadly, must step back from the duties she has so kindly provided for the better part of a year with this series. There is hope she might return, but with maybe fifteen or so chapters left (and at least five of those are already written at this point.) the series may be over by then. But this chapter here, #28? This is the last one she edited, about a month ago.

So I just want to take a moment to fondly praise Cory. We met almost three years ago here on FFN, and what became her 'only' giving me a few pointers for the month of June turned into an ongoing collaboration, as well as a deep and abiding friendship. Her fingerprints are over...well, at least half my work, and I would call that the better half. I am exceedingly blessed by her friendship, and I consider her as true a kin to me as any by blood. She is a wonderful confidant, a superb editor, and I will miss her to bits while she's "gone".

I've learned that a good editor can make a good writer something great. Cory understands me, she knows when to use a light touch, and when to occasionally press harder. She never tells me what to do, she merely suggests, makes me consider and reconsider. Offers suggestions, but also gives me enough faith to know when I feel strongly enough about something, or when I realize that I'm being a bit foolish and indulgent, and should try harder. She has saved me from making some stupid choices, and I've learned how to develop a better instinct for "killing my darlings", as my father the one-time English professor would put it.

She is also one of the most accomplished writers I know of, and you should really check out her stuff. I wish she had more time to write!

Anyhow Big Sister, I am going to dearly miss your steady guidance. Come back to us soon, okay? And if the technical quality of the writing goes down just a little, I apologize to everyone, in advance.

With that said, I am quite fortunate that someone else is going to step in and do some beta reading, so that at least I have a second opinion on what's going on with the story. I am very, very VERY pleased to announce that my Little Sister (from another mister) **NuQueerWarhead** has kindly and graciously agreed to take on the role. A lot of folks probably don't know this, but she was instrumental in getting this story started. She listened to my initial ideas, she gave me some good insight into what worked and what didn't. She forced me to consider some stuff, and in a way, this whole series has taken a much different (and IMO, a superior) turn thanks to those discussions we had in the beginning. Already, she's been doing some amazing work on chapters 30 and 31, I'm so thrilled. We met about a year ago, and I knew our relationship was going to be something special when, in less than 48 hours after our meeting, she gave me some critique and feedback that vastly improved a one-shot I wrote (Childhood's End.) I sometimes privately refer to her as Chibi-Cory, because she is a strong and amazing person in general with a burning enthusiasm for Mass Effect; the first time we ever met offline, we recognized each other by the matching N7 hoodies.

Seriously, she is just the best! And the title of this chapter is an homage to her excellent "Precious Gifts..." series.

One last thing: If for some reason, I don't publish on Friday when I should, check my profile page. I've gotten into the habit of updating it frequently, so you can find the latest status information there.

Whew. Anyhow. That's it. Join us next week for another episode of "JESUS FUCKING CHRIST MAX, KISS HER ALREADY!"

[Thanks to **GrumpCat42** for spotting a few typos!]


	29. Like An Oncoming Train

"Gah, no! Chloe, your stance is...it needs...here, hold on. Let me help."

'A couple more things' turned into Chloe begging Max for an impromptu shooting lesson, something the other girl agreed to, but only on the condition that she could find them six bottles for target practice. It struck her as an odd request, but given that she knew the old junkyard like the back of her hand, it was a quick and easy task to complete.

Granted, she was expecting some sort of secret, awesome gun-fu that was going to immediately up her game and turn her into a force to be reckoned with. Instead, what she received was a lot of long and complicated stuff about how she was holding the gun or the way she was standing.

 _Oh well, I guess TV...and videogames, and movies, and books all make it look too easy!_

"Okay, so now, you need to rest the first pad of your middle finger right on the trigger, in the middle. This is gonna sound weird, but you need to squeeze the trigger. Don't just pull it, but squeeze it slowly. And don't jerk or flinch as you do it. Nothing screws the bullet trajectory up more than flinching, right before or at the moment you fire the gun. It took me years of practice to get as good as I am now, and that was the last bit I really mastered."

As Max continued to talk about things like 'trigger discipline' and 'creating the sight picture', how to hold her arms out and blah blah blah, Chloe couldn't help but feel like maybe her friend was getting a little more touchy feely than she'd normally been in the past. It was probably all in her mind, but she could have sworn the other girl let her fingers linger just a bit longer than needed across her own while setting up her grip, or reaching down and pushing on her thigh to guide her into the appropriate stance as she explained...

"So you want to narrow your physical profile. Same reason you do it when you get into a fistfight, makes you harder to hit. Turn a bit, and...you're right handed, yeah? So move this leg back, about a foot, and..."

 _No, you're just imagining it. I mean, why would she even...of course...that is,_ you _went and made things weird with that kissing dare. God, what was that all about?_

Chloe was still trying to figure out the answer to that question. The entire dare was a spur-of- the-moment thing, an impulse that leapt up to her mouth, completely bypassing her brain in the process.

Then she doubled down.

 _Well, that's just me being me. Seems like I never know when to stop when I'm on a roll with a bad idea._

Still, there was something about seeing Max dressed in Rachel's old clothes, and God knows she loved her ex-semi-girlfriend's sense of style. She certainly wasn't expecting her friend to lean in and actually do the deed. Was she? Chloe just...

 _Ah God. I freaked! I totally freaked and played it too cool to compensate. And now Max is probably wondering W-T-F. Or...or maybe she doesn't think a damn thing about it? She's_ _guessing it was a weird goof or something. That it was just a stupid dare like...like I said it was...and not..._

It was a line of thought that didn't bring Chloe any comfort. She hated the notion that Max might have just been going along with the dare for shits and giggles, that she felt absolutely nothing in their brief little kiss. The thought that Max might have only considered it a dumb joke, one so easily forgotten, tied Chloe's stomach up in knots and threatened to crush the butterflies already fluttering around inside.

But things were definitely 'weird' now, in some deep and unspoken way, since then.

 _Or is it all just in my head? Mine alone. Gah! This is driving me nuts!_

Between the time spent learning some hand-to-hand combat basics and the firearms training, Max was close, intimately so, up in her personal space. She had to be, naturally, in order to convey the lessons properly, but it was distracting the hell out of her.

 _Oh fuck. Chloe. Chill. This isn't what you think this is. It can't be. Just...focus on this gun shit, okay? You just get whatever else is going up in that brain of yours, and focus on this instead, because fuck knows it might go bad with Frank. Or maybe someone else'll try to pull shit with me. Maybe one of those assholes from the government comes looking for Max, and I'll have to defend myself...or...or her?_

"Okay, now glance down the sight, and line it up with the target. Just squeeze the trigger. Don't stop, don't think about it, just do it."

Pausing to aim and take the shot as instructed, Chloe barely registered what she'd done until the sharp sound of shattering glass filled the air. She blinked, then cheered, undeterred by Max nervously reaching over to secure her hand, the one with the gun in it.

"Yeah! That is the shit, right there! Okay, so how many times did you have to rewind and guide me so I could make _that_ shot?"

"None, believe it or not." Max smiled. "You did it on your first try. But you know, beginner's luck is everything." she teased with a playful wink.

There were those knots in her stomach again.

The way Max was looking at her, like she was proud of what she'd just done. It brought a hot rush to her cheeks, a tight ache in her chest. Chloe glanced away in embarrassment.

 _It isn't what you think it is._

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

 _Well, maybe it is?_

She knew the feeling. The electric attraction, the sweet suffering that suffused her body. More than just mere physical lust; beyond and better than that. Above it. She was no stranger to the sensation, remembering just how deeply Rachel affected her, once upon a time.

 _But this isn't like_ that! _This is Max, my best friend. My bestest friend. The one who stands above everyone else. I mean it's...c'moooon Chloe! Get your head out of your ass. You're still smarting from being super-mega dumped in the worst way by Rachel Am-bitch. Max comes back, and the two of you have these amazing, intense adventures. And now you want it to be more than what it really is._

 _Wait..._

Really? Was that it? Was she just rebounding? Transferring all those lingering thoughts and feelings from Rachel over to Max? Or was it something more?

Because God knows, it felt different this time. Not new...at least, not totally. A lot of it was old, familiar, and comfortable, but now there was a twist. Like a song she'd been blithely singing for years, until she suddenly figured out the actually meaning of the words, having been completely obviously up until now. Afterwards, the tune was still the same, but with an entirely transformed meaning.

"Hey Chloe. Are you with me?" Max asked.

Chloe nodded in quick succession. "Yup. Just - ah - still savoring that victory. Watch me do it again!"

 _Ah...shit. Whatever it is, you need to let it go, Chloe. Chances are, you're only crushing on her for the wrong reasons, like you're wanting her to_ be _Rachel, in which case, that's hella fucked up. She still needs to figure out who the hell she is. Doesn't need you trying to shape her into something she's not._

But what if there _was_ something there? If Max felt the same sorts of things, right now? Chloe almost let the gun slip out of her grip, as she bit down on her lip. She did her best to exorcise of the effect these lines of thought were having on her.

"To the right, Che."

She blinked, jerked out of her thoughts. "Huh?"

Max gave her a warm grin. "Move your aim to the right. You just missed when you tried the shot...let it pull to the left."

"Oh." She smiled sheepishly, and readjusted her aim, viscerally pleased when the second bottle disintegrated into splinters.

"Yeah! Ha ha! Still swear you're gonna turn me into the Terminator before you go, Mad Max!"

Her friend rolled her eyes with dramatic flourish, "Seriously though? Just keep in mind there's a world of difference between standing in a target practice session, where you have all the time in the world, and a live fire situation where people are trying to kill you. A lot of gun battles are over in less than fifteen to thirty seconds. Same thing with a street fight, when the other guy is out to absolutely fuck you up."

 _Awwwww. Look how cute she is, the way she's holding her hands behind her back, like she's in instructor mode or something! Bet she doesn't realize how it makes her chest thrust out. Or maybe..maybe she can't keep her hands off me, and this is how she's dealing with..._

Chloe winced lightly.

 _You stop this. Seriously. No matter what's going on, Max...she doesn't need your shit, okay? Your hang ups. Don't even go down this road, Chloe. She's got dangerous assholes on her tail, and the last thing she needs is to be worried about you, or...or...because...okay, what happens if you tell her, "Oh hey Max, I know you're heading out of town, but I think I'm falling for you. Or I don't know! Gah! I mean, does she even like girls? Or boys? Either? Maybe after all that time in detention, she doesn't like anything even remotely sexy or romantic._

All the same, there was an instinctive doubt, chewing away insistently at the back of her mind. Softly screaming that something was there, more than just the simple bonds of friendship.

But Chloe made her mind up, right then and there.

 _She doesn't need to find out something that's going to make everything crazy, just as she's running away for her life. Just...let her go Chloe. Let her go, and after a week or two, you're gonna see the truth. It was only a brief thing. Intense heat of the moment stuff. But none of it is what you think it is._

She swallowed hard, and decided to mix it up, make things interesting. Something to distract her from her internal agonizing.

"Max! I wanna get creative here. Thinking about a trick shot. Can you make that happen?" She turned, smirking at the exasperated groan her request prompted from the raven-haired girl.

Max rubbed at the bridge of her nose; Chloe paid close attention, watching the subtle 'frame skips' as Max clearly zipped back and forth through potential timelines.

 _Wow, people would miss that shit if they didn't know what to look for._

In that moment, Chloe did her best to push down the realization that Max was burning off time from her life for her request. For her. Maybe it was just a few minutes here and there, but it all added up in the end, right?

 _Damn, maybe I shouldn't be encouraging her to show off like this..._

Suddenly, Max pointed over towards the left "That old wheel rim on your left. Give that a shot...ha ha, pun intended."

Chloe loosened up her shoulders, tightened her grip, and squeezed the trigger. She expected it to be a complete wiff, but the forty-five degree ricochet they pulled off was far more delightful than the bottle breaking.

"Hella yes!" she called out!

"Nice shootin', Tex." Max drawled out, in a terrible Southern drawl.

Chloe laughed, triumphantly waving the pistol in the air, until a sharp glare from Max shut her carelessness down.

"Okay, how about we get one more trick shot out of your system, Che? And by the way, your basic form isn't bad. When you hit the road, go visit some target ranges and get a few more lessons. But you're off to a solid start!"

"Well, I did have a really ho-...awesome teacher." Chloe replied, trying to smoothly slip past her initial stumble.

 _Shit, did I start saying hot? Gah! Chloe! Staaahp!_

"Okay, so how about we use that old junker for a target, this time?" Max waved a dismissive hand at the ancient, rusting hulk of an old Studebaker; it was precariously perched behind the board where the bottles were arranged.

"Yea-ah! That's what I'm talking about."

 _Ah man. This is fun! So much fucking...damnit Max! Why do you have to leave? Why can't we just stay together like this, the whole day? Week, month, year..._

"Hey, I need a target, oh great teacher." Chloe said.

Again, Max appraised the car, tapping her lips...

...two seconds later, she was suddenly hugging her for dear life.

Chloe completely missed the transition from one moment to the next, grateful that she was holding the pistol away from her friend, and wondering what the hell could have prompted that reaction...

She tried her best to ignore the feel and the weight of her friend's body, pressed close against her own.

"Whoa! Maxima! Are...what happened? What's wrong?"

Max pulled back, blushing furiously, as an agitated, almost fearful expression blossomed over her face. She swallowed hard, fanning herself with a hand, and spoke through gritted teeth. "Don't...don't shoot the bumper! Don't...just...uhhh..." She stabbed a finger in an accusing fashion towards the car. "That left tire. Yeah, that should work."

Chloe glanced sideways, chills running up and down her spine. In that moment, she wanted to put down the gun, wrap her arms around her best friend, and tell her that everything was going to be okay. They could stop doing this, and she was sorry, for whatever the hell just happened.

 _Fuck...what did you see, Max? Did I get hurt, somehow? Shoot myself, or maybe the car fell on me? Geezus, I...I don't think I want to know._

The memory of watching the Other Chloe, the one paralyzed from the neck down, flashed into the forefront of her mind.

 _I_ definitely _don't want to know...holy shit! Geezus, the things you must see, Max. The things you have to take back, and then pretend never happened, because they kind of didn't...except for you._

Her self-control nearly broke at the thought. Resisting the urge to give Max another hug, she instead focused on performing the shot as instructed: checked her stance, held out her arms, but didn't lock them, took a calm breath, squeezed the trigger...

...the bullet bit deep into the old tire, deflating it.

"Aidios, spinning wheel of death!" Chloe called out in triumph.

The shift in load was enough to cause the old car to roll forward, smashing into the rest of the bottles, before landing on the ground with a loud thud. Momentum carried it further along, until it flipped over, prompting the pair of them to back away.

"Ubercool!" Chloe exclaimed, and on instinct, she and Max smacked hands together, following it up with a fist bump.

 _Hah. Just like we used to do when we were kids. Like no time passed at all._

She carefully held out the gun. "Here, you wanna take a few shots?"

She immediately regretted saying it, realizing how lame her question sounded.

 _Like you weren't doing this shit morning, noon and night, Max. Damn!_

She bowed her head. "Never mind."

Max slowly placed fingers over her own, closing them around the pistol. "It's okay. Shooting guns stopped being fun for me a long time ago. But you know what?"

"What?"

She smiled happily. "It was pretty great, watching you. Seeing it through your eyes, living through you. You know, just for a minute?"

Chloe bowed her head, heat rushing through her cheeks at the words. At Max, not taking back her hand, letting it linger.

Then it happened; her mouth jump ahead of her brain again.

"Max, I need to tell you some-"

"Hey, it's Thelma and Louise." a rough voice mockingly intoned. Frank, eternally scruffy in his dirty blue jacket with a popped collar, appeared as if from nowhere. Chloe immediately tensed up, adrenalin rushing through her veins. Then she smirked to herself; Max was here. Chloe had nothing to fear from this asshole. Not today.

"Or is it Bonnie and Clyde?" he asked.

"Excuse us, Frank!" Getting out of the junkyard seemed like a good idea. She'd pay him back soon enough She certainly didn't feel like giving up any more of what dwindling time she had left with Max in order to deal with his shit.

"Oh, sorry Chloe." he sneered. "Don't let me get in the way of your bonding."

She glanced over to the side, and caught sight of Max: she was unafraid, almost placidly so. She had a tiny smile on her lips, like someone who was totally in control of the situation.

 _Oh my God. Look at her. Look at you, Max. You are one bad ass sistah. Probably thinking of twelve ways to take this little prick down with just your pinky. Or maybe you'll smash your head against his. Or hell, you'll just fucking make him back off with sheer bravado!_

"I heard the gunshots and the breaking glass. It's cute that you're playing with guns. Just like me at your age." He waved his hands in her general direction, in a mocking gesture of false comradery.

Chloe glared sideways. "We're not anything alike, man."

"We both need money." Frank shot back. "In fact, you need it so bad, you owe me a shitload, don't you Chloe. Huh?"

Chloe's lips curled up almost painfully.

"Yeah? Well guess what, asshole? I got your money. All of it. You want to be paid back? You just name the time and place."

Frank stopped short, clearly not expecting that answer. He shifted from one foot to the other, narrowing his eyes in disbelief. "Oh yeah? Just like that, huh? Bullshit."

"It's not bullshit." Max said. "I helped her get it. So yeah, you'll get what's coming to you."

Frank wasn't amused by Max's double entendre. "Who the fuck are you? And what the hell are you hiding behind your back?"

"Ms. None Yo Fucking Business, that's who." Max snarled back sharply. She then held out the gun. "And this is what I'm carrying. Not that I'd need it, if I had to take you down." She made a show of carefully engaging the safety and putting the gun into a jacket pocket. "But we don't have to turn this into a fight, do we? Like Chloe said, you'll get your money. You just tell her where to drop it off. Then it's over. Simple as that."

Chloe watched Max, acting like she was a shark, or a mamba, or maybe a wolf; some sort of predator able to keep up with the best of them. The way she casually canted her head, and then pulled back the jacket to let her sculpted muscles show through. Not to mention the aura of absolute fearlessness she exuded. Everything about her at this moment sent out a single message: 'Try me, punk. Give me a reason. It won't end well for you.'

Chloe couldn't help but jump in with her own digs, inspired and feeling shielded by Max's presence. "Holy shit. Is that one of Rachel's friendship bracelets around your wrist? God, I knew the two of you were fooling around on the side, but I always thought she only did it to get you to give up the drugs for her. I mean, shit dude, I burned mine when I found out she was such a lying bitch. Running off without telling anyone, then suddenly popping back up last month."

Frank's eyes flew open, presumably in shock. Pressing her advantage, Chloe laughed derisively. "Jesus dude, did she not even call you to tell you she was still alive? Damn, I thought _I_ was a loser. But you're right, I guess we do have something in common: we both got fucked and fucked over by Rachel."

The lanky blonde male was torn, his face a mask of barely contained rage. He obviously wanted to salve his wounded pride, but clearly didn't feel lucky enough to mess with a woman who was not only armed with a pistol, but felt confident enough to not need it.

"Fine!" Frank viciously spit out. "You bring it around to my RV on Friday, bitch. Six P.M. " he said, pointing to Chloe. "All of it. I'm not playing around anymore. This is it, debt called in. If there's even a fucking penny missing..." he left the empty threat hanging in the air. He started to walk away from them, glancing over his shoulder as he snarled, "I can just imagine what you two little lesbos did to earn three grand."

Chloe burned with fury, fists balling up tightly as she watched Frank sulk away. She didn't want to admit it, but that last line cut her hard, and it was all she could do to keep from running at him and jumping onto his back. She desperately wanted to force him down onto the ground and smash his head repeatedly in the dirt. Max must have sensed it, because she laid a gentle hand on her shoulder, giving it a soft squeeze.

"He's not worth it, Chloe. Just...just ah..."

Chloe turned around, facing her friend squarely.

"...let it go." Max glanced towards Frank's shrinking figure; it was clear that she was shooting him daggers of her own. In that moment, Chloe could see it, clear as day: if she asked, Max would stick around, to make sure Frank wasn't going to hurt her. She'd put herself in more jeopardy, hanging around Arcadia Bay. The risks growing day by day...

 _No! I gotta get a handle on this!_

Chloe shrugged, "Yeah, whatever. Frank's bark is way worse than his bite, like that stupid ass dog of his. He could have killed me a hundred times over, but the asshole never has. Never will. He just wants his money so...I guess after Friday, I'm out of here. And...and you'll be long gone too, so..." She followed it up with a reassuring smile. "I got it. Although damn, maybe you can lend me a cup of Bad-Ass Bitch before you leave, right?"

* * *

A little while later, the two of them were walking together, side by side on the railroad tracks that cut perpendicular from the junkyard. They held their arms out for balance and gabbed away.

"Wow! I can't believe it, Max. Asshole didn't even recognize you."

"Why should he? I wiped that whole timeline out. As far as reality is concerned, it's the first time he's ever laid eyes on me."

"Never gonna get over that, Max. Never in a million years."

Chloe stumbled, her fingers reaching for Max's...who instinctively reached out on her own to steady her. They paused, turned, and just looked at each other. Chloe's mind replayed their moment together from the morning: the kiss. And for the thousandth time, she cursed herself, wondering why the hell she dared Max to do it. She was so nervous now, afraid she'd thrown a permanent wrench into their friendship. But there was more than that: part of her was even more angry at herself for not having kissed back.

The quiet intensity of the moment reached an overwhelming peak, and they both let go at the same time, before continuing to walk ahead. They were grinning like loons, not quite looking at each other.

"Yeah, well, I'm just glad I was there to protect you." Max blanched, quickly adding. "I mean, not that I think you really needed protecting..."

"Hah! I don't mind. I like it, that you're here. Watching my back. Teaching me shit, like this." Chloe glanced down and in a quieter voice said "Teaching me to be stronger."

They stopped, and then knelt down to spread themselves out across the train tracks. Max suddenly 'shifted' and reached out to insistently stop her from placing her feet near one of the switch rails.

"No. Not there." She shook her head, and didn't seem to be in the mood to explain further.

Chloe blinked, and joked, "What? Do I get my foot stuck in there before a train comes screaming down?"

"Best not to find out, right Che?" is all Max said, in a tiny little voice.

Swallowing hard, her heart unpleasantly skipping a few beats, Chloe laughed nervously. "Damn, Maxima. I'm starting to wonder if you're my lucky charm or cursed." The look of pain that spread across her friend's face felt like a knife twisting in her gut.

"Ah...oh...shit! Sorry. I'm...so fucking stupid sometimes. I'm sorry, I don't know why I..."

"It's okay...really." Max interrupted. "I'm just - that is - it seems like I've had to save you a bunch of times this week. It kinda reminds me of the reason why they took me away from Arcadia Bay in the first place. They said it was because I was so powerful, that it was warping reality or something. That's why all the dead birds, and whales, and the tornado that never was. I mean, what if some of that's still lingering around here? Like..like it remembers me? And it's telling me to go away...trying to hurt you, to make me leave." She hugged herself tight, and then asked. "Chloe, what if this is how it's like to be me? Like I'm so powerful, just being around me is fucking dangerous? Because I'm this supernatural force, warping and breaking the world around me simply by existing."

"Max...hey. No way!" Chloe said, trying to come up with the most reassuring words she could manage on the fly. "It's stupid coincidence! I mean, I...ha...I lead a dangerous life. I've just been lucky until now, and I've been getting luckier and luckier, with you around again. So don't..." She lay back, resting her head against the iron rail, and stared up into the blue sky.

"Don't ever be afraid, Max. Okay? Of life. Or living it. I know it probably doesn't seem like it right now, but it's gonna be an adventure. You're gonna stay one step ahead of those government prick assholes, and one day, they'll realize it's just not worth the trouble anymore. Maybe afterwards, you'll find me, and we'll hang out a bunch more, and we'll talk about all the awesome things we did, when we were apart. So just...promise you'll find me again someday?"

She hadn't meant to say the last part. There was a logical part of her brain that realized after today, she'd probably never see her old friend again. Small, and ever dying against the ragged, building maelstrom of emotion, which roiled at the thought of no more Max in her life.

Like she might as well be dead.

"Just wish it could be like this, forever. Sitting here. Calm. Like we're the only two people in the world, Max."

The other girl bowed her head and said, "I know."

They sat together in silence, not talking for almost ten minutes before Max finally clambered onto her feet, holding out a hand to help her up.

"No point in drawing it out, huh? Probably time to get back on the road." she said in a soft, sad tone, before perking up. "But thanks for showing me all of this. For showing me your world, the one I missed, all those years I was away. Seriously."

"Yeah. Hella nice we got to see it together, at last." Chloe turned and looked back forlornly, before the notion struck her, full on.

She'd never go back to American Rust again.

She couldn't. All of that was in the past, tainted with bittersweet poison. First Rachel, and now...

...how could she return to her tiny kingdom, and sit all alone in her crumbling castle? To wallow in her memories of Max and lament that there was nothing else left to live for?

They could hear the train horn howling in the distance. They both stepped off to the side, watching as the train passed swiftly by. As it did, Chloe couldn't help but feel small and helpless. Utterly powerless.

Her own train was rushing towards her; in no time at all, Max would be gone. Her amazing friend, the one who blew into her life like a summer squall, leaving her completely and permanently changed in the wake. For the rest of her life, time would be measured before this particular week in October, and after.

Max was slipping away. Chloe knew that a life forever without her was drawing closer and closer still. She _still_ wasn't sure if she'd be stupid enough to simply stand there and let the cruel reality hit her square on or if she'd have the courage to jump out of the way in the nick of time.

 _Damnit!_

As they made their way back to the truck, Chloe silently begged the Heavens to give her an answer before it was too late, doing her best to tamp down the panic clawing its way through her chest. Now, Portland was the worst possible ending to this story, holding only the promise of a quiet, living death; a path of regret, and woulda-coulda-shoulda's. If she drove there, let Max out of the truck, stood idly by and watched her disappear into the night...

 _I just need a sign, God. I just need a sign! Something I can work with. Anything..._

 _...please._

It became a mantra repeatedly ringing in her head, filling the awkward, uncomfortable silence as they drove ever onward over the next half hour.

And then suddenly, she saw it:

 **COUNTY FAIR - TWO MILES AHEAD.**

Chloe took a deep breath, her courage building into a roaring inferno. In one perfect moment of clarity, she knew what she needed to do. And as the Ferris wheel and the other rides came into view over the hilltops, she knew where and how she'd do it.

"Hey Max." She said, a chipper lilt in her voice. "How about one last stop?

* * *

 **A/N:** Hey kids. It's Lyta, riding solo this time, on your Fabulous Swan Friday. **NuQueerWarhead** has already been putting me through the editorial paces with chapters 30 and 31, so I think you're going to be in for a real treat. I don't want to give too much away about the next chapter, except to say that it's probably going to be one of, if not THE longest entry in this series to date...make of that what you will ;-D

To the kind guest who left a review a few days ago, and asked specifically about playing around with making Max even more powerful: Yes I had thought of that. Sorta. Believe it or not, when I first conceived of this story, it was going to start off with Max being able to not only manipulate time, but also step through parallel dimensions, and the kicker at the end was going to be that this was never Max's timeline at all. Then, I was going to have a weird episode of Riotgrrls in Love where RiL Max and BS Max meet up briefly. But as you can imagine, this was a concept that swiftly became overly-complicated, and I tossed it out before I even pitched the concept to NQW. I'm having enough trouble as it is keeping things straight. Plus, I like having Max have some limits on her power, it forces me to be a bit creative in coming up with solutions.

So thank you for hanging in there with the romantic angst. I promise next week is the payoff. You're gonna like it. :) Then shit starts getting real again in chapters 31 and 32.

Have a great weekend! I think Passover starts today, so happy holiday, to those who observe it.


	30. Near Wild Heaven

Max stared numbly out the window as Arcadia Bay pulled further away from her; ahead, Portland loomed large. Menacing. Cold and inhospitable, a battlefield waiting to test her mettle, and find her wanting.

She should have been using the time to plot out how she was going to deal with the rest of the night. How to eat, where to sleep, what she'd do for money. Whatever it was, it'd no doubt involve a lot of using her powers to commit various acts of theft, breaking and entering and skipping back and forth across the timestream.

 _Food should be easy, just run into a store, grab something ready-made from the deli counter, make a break for it and then rewind back a few minutes to wipe out any of the camera footage. Sleeping...sleeping, let me see. Shit, I seriously don't want to take my chances out on the street, probably best to avoid the shelters. Uhhh...I could find a place where people appear to be on vacation, or maybe a cheap hotel, and break into a room. Sleep, and then rewind back to wipe out my tracks, and then jump forward in time to cancel out the life loss? Man, can I even jump that far ahead? I did an hour yesterday, and it felt kinda easy..._

When it came to the basic question of survival, Max harbored no doubts that she could stay ahead, manipulate events in her favor. Play it slow and careful, build up her cash reserves with petty theft and Keno winnings. Somehow work her way across the Canadian border...and then?

What kind of life was waiting out there for her? Would it always be Max versus The World? A paranoid descent into madness, condemned to an existence of constant vigilance and looking over her shoulder, forever wondering how close Damocles was behind her? Dreading the day they would finally catch up, and what they would do if they ever dragged her back to Zion?

With every mile Chloe drove, Max felt the tight, constricting snare of an unkind future - one where she would be utterly alone - tightening around her neck. She gazed longingly at Chloe's reflection in the passenger side window, trying to burn the image into her mind, steeling herself for what was to come. Praying fervently that if and when the Government came to interrogate her friend, they'd believe her when she said she didn't know a damn thing; that they'd just leave her and her family alone.

A terrible sense of dread clawed at her stomach, as she began to consider the fallout that could hit Chloe; Max needed to protect her, needed to do something so that the oncoming storm turned away from Arcadia Bay, towards herself instead.

 _Tomorrow. I'll try to pull some cash out of the ATM tomorrow. Give them a good look at my face in the camera. Once they know I'm in Portland, maybe they won't see the need to spend much time bothering with Arcadia Bay, and come straight for me. By the time they converge, I'll be so out of there._

All sorts of ideas began to percolate in her brain.

 _Wait...what if I really push my future-jumps hard? As far as I can go, as often as I can stand. Just keep jumping and jumping. A year. Or two, or five. Long enough so that they stop looking, at least for a while, and then I...I'll..._

And what sort of future was that? One filled with questions, such as why Max hadn't aged a day. One where she wouldn't have the first idea of how to find Chloe. Or worse yet, what if Chloe needed her help, and Max wasn't around to give it to her? So she was dead, or worse?

She clutched at her sternum, willing the tears in her eyes to go away.

 _Oh fuck! And I just forgot about poor Kate, too! Literally forgot about her until this minute. Man, I suck! I should have stopped by the hospital and visited her. If just for a few minutes. Wonder what the hell she must be thinking? Told her I was gonna be a friend, and then ran away. Wowser, how bad must that look? And then when I don't show up for school, she'll figure it was all bullshit. What if she decides to try an end it again...because of me?_

Depression threatened to drag her down into its inky abyss until suddenly, Chloe spoke up.

"Hey Max." She said, a chipper lilt in her voice. "How about one last stop?

Max should have said no; she knew what was going on. Chloe only wanted to delay the inevitable, and she couldn't blame her. She felt exactly the same way.

 _Only about three o'clock right now. Fuck it, sure. God, I could use a break. Probably just gonna make it harder when the time comes to leave her behind, but shit. I can't deal with all the pain right now._

She glanced over at approaching fairgrounds off to the side, and smirked.

"A-A county fair, Che? Really? We haven't done that since I was eleven."

"Yeah? So? No age limit on getting our corn dogs and tilt-o-whirl on, Maxima. I...I mean..." Chloe swallowed, and gave her a brave smile. "Who knows when we'll ever get a chance to do something fun like this again?"

 _You mean 'if'._

Max smirked as she considered: one final romp in the innocent garden of youth. A last great hurrah before she torched her entire past and never looked back.

"Guess I _am_ getting a little hungry. Nice weather for it, too."

"Yeah! I'm gonna totally get something that's fried, but hella shouldn't be. Like Kool Aid or a Pop Tart or something!"

Max could only shake her head and laugh, sighing delicately as the pain in her heart eased slightly.

Chloe pulled into the parking lot, paid the fee, and then drove on to find a place to stash the truck. The fair itself was surprisingly well-attended, given that it was late afternoon in the dead middle of the week; Max was grateful for that, though. If she remembered right, it was probably the first day of the Marion County Fair, and come the weekend, it would be a total madhouse.

As they hopped out of the truck, Max slipped her sweatshirt hood over her head, a pair of cheap sunglasses covering her eyes; fortunately, it was the sort of 'sullen teen' look she could pull off without attracting too much attention. Not to mention that Chloe, with her hair and tattoos would draw anyone's eyes off her, as long as they stuck close together.

Chloe paid the attendance fee at the gate, and upon stepping inside, Max asked, "So what do we do first?"

The blunette smiled wickedly, rubbed her hands together and said, "Oh shit, we should totally hit up the games! Between the gun training, and your muscles and powers, you could clean the place up, totally rule the fairway! And..."

Max was smiling just a bit more now, Chloe's enthusiasm infecting her and lifting her mood. At least until she saw her friend's plotting spontaneously die off.

"C-Chloe? Are you okay?"

"No." she answered, in a tight, soft voice. She then held up a hand and continued, "I mean, I'm fine, really." She scrubbed a nervous hand behind her neck. "But I'm...you...you're not a thing. Max. You know what I mean? You're not this killer shiny toy that grants wishes. You're a goddamn person, and I keep fucking forgetting that, even after I told myself yesterday I wasn't gonna."

Max blinked, caught off guard by her friend's sudden introspection. She walked along for a good half minute in silence, at first unsure of what to say. She wanted her response to be measured and heartfelt, but right before she had a chance to open her mouth to reply, Chloe quickly reached up, yanked off her beanie and began twisting it up between her hands.

"I mean, this shit is killing you, right? A little bit, every time you do it?" A pained and haunted look grew on her face as she asked the question.

Max could only nod, glancing down instinctively at where the lifeclock would be on her wrist, currently obscured as it was by the sweatshirt sleeve. She thought about protesting, saying that maybe almost a year's worth of time for the past five was worth the cost, but Chloe continued on, her voice increasing in confidence as she spoke.

"So promise me, from this minute, you'll only use it when you need to, to survive. Please? Don't go wasting your life on me. Don't be feeling like you gotta impress me with tricks. We should be done with tricks." Chloe reached out, took her hand and squeezed it. "This is all for you now, Max. Whatever you want to do." She coughed lightly, blushed, and muttered, "I mean, you're gonna have enough shit to deal with out there, after today. Don't go burning off days of your life for a fucking county fair. Let this place be like...the most normal thing in the world for you. That make any sense at all?"

Max's heart fluttered, a giddy, nervous energy burst through her veins. Chloe's hand felt _so_ good in her own right now, so right. She didn't want to let it go at that moment, but knew she had to, or else she'd burst out into tears. Instead, she squeezed back, let it drop...and then impulsively threw her arms around Chloe, hugging her tight.

"Thank you." she hissed, keeping her eyes tightly shut as she fought back the tears.

"W-what for? Jesus, you mean for treating you like a person?"

"Yeah. That. Exactly that!" Max paused, becoming uncomfortably aware of how her chest felt, pressed against Chloe's. Unable to help but focus on the way their breasts brushed up together in the embrace.

 _Oh my God...did...did hugging_ always _involve boob-touching? When did this start happening?!_

She pulled back quickly, a ferocious blush coloring her cheeks. She couldn't help but feel the magnetic pull between them now, a physical thing. As if that kiss, as brief and seemingly meaningless to Chloe as it had been, awoke something ferocious inside her. She needed to keep some distance between them now, even though it was the last thing she actually wanted.

"Five years, Che. Five years, of being a specimen, or a victim, or a threat. Five years of being...anything and everything, except myself." Her lower lip trembled, and she swallowed hard. Reached up and wiped away a few tears. "And you're the first person to tell me to be me. Like, if I lost my powers all of the sudden, you'd be the only person in the world who wouldn't care...because you'd still be my friend."

Chloe blushed furiously, jamming her beanie back onto her head, "Fuck Max, of course I would. I mean, sorry, I know I've been a manipulative bitch for a lot of the past few days...only excuse I can think of is that I got so used to being beat down and being angry at the world, I glommed onto both my best friend and her super sized power, thinking like...I could try and get some payback. I was angry about you, and for you, and about myself and...gah! Power corrupts, I guess. But it doesn't matter; without your power, you'd still be you, Max. The same, awesome, sweet, wonderful...fuck." She smirked, sadly. "Actually, it would be a lot easier if you couldn't mess with time at all anymore, huh? Then you wouldn't have to run."

Max sighed heavily, deflating just a bit from her initial buzz. "Yeah. Yeah that's true. But I don't think I can just make it go away, and..." She glanced over at the distant fairway. Took a deep, cleansing breath, and then gripped Chloe by the shoulder. "You know what? One last time, let's you and me go fuck with the world a little, huh? Let's go and make some people happy."

* * *

It started with the shooting gallery. It took Max a couple of rounds to get a feel for the pellet gun, how it pulled, what its strengths and weaknesses were. In short order, she was shooting out the middle of target after target, to the increasing dismay and incredulity of the barker manning the booth. Chloe cheered and hooted, as her arms grew burdened with the small but growing army of stuffed toys.

"Jesus christ!" the barker vented near the end of the session. "You in the army or something, kid?"

Max smirked, but before she could answer, Chloe called out, "Yeah! Junior ROTC. Watch out, she's gonna be a Marine!"

They two of them ran off, spoils in arms, laughing and whooping it up all the while. Feeling the need to change it up, Max stalked over towards the ball toss, with an exaggerated, confident sway in her hips. Her eyes gazed over the prizes, beckoning to her from up on the back shelf.

"So, little lady." The carnie on duty drawled, favoring her with an oily smile, as if he'd just spotted an easy mark. "See anything you like?"

Max crossed her arms briefly, then pointed out towards the one thing she suddenly had her heart set on. "You know, you could save us _both_ a lot of time and embarrassment if you gave me that Hawt Dog Man electric scooter. Right this second."

He laughed; it was a facade of genteel kindness overlaid against weary derisiveness. "Well, I can't just give anything away, girl. Gotta pay to play, same as everyone else."

Max smiled viciously now. "Just for that...hey! Chloe. You see anything else up there you like?"

"Ya'll mean other than that there shiny-ass scooter, Boss?" Chloe answered in a mock-Southern accent. "Yeah, how about the hella huge Princess Sparklefists plushy."

Max paid her three bucks for the balls, turned to the man and said, "Just remember, I gave you fair warning."

For the next forty-five minutes, Max and Chloe were the Stuffed Toy Avengers of the fair. Every father who failed to fulfil their child's heart's desire was saved by The Woman In Black and her mysterious, blue-haired sidekick. Each and every game fell prey to Mad Maxima, the Girl with the Golden Arm. A hundred hugs were received, a thousand thank you's on top of that. One particularly adorable little girl named Ellie was profuse in her thanks, to the point of tears.

"Man, she is the cutest!" Chloe enthused afterwards. "I love how she said. 'Hewwa awesome!'."

And while it all might have been a fleeting thing, a small bit of material happiness, the experience was worth the memory alone. For a single shining minute, there was magic in the air, the notion that something supernatural was taking place. An hoard of small acts of random kindness became butterfly wings flapping, rustling up a mighty wind of change. Grand or small, for better or worse, Max could feel that what she and Chloe did this day would ripple along for years.

But all good things must come to an end; so it was that a short, squat man, with a pinched face like a rat came angrily waddling down, waving his arms at Max and Chloe. His face was flushed, as if the mixture of anger and physical exertion threatened to burst through every capillary in his face.

"Hey. Hey! What the hell do you girls think you're playing at?" he snarled, having brought them over to a corner off to the side.

"I think we're playing your games, man." Chloe said. "And hella winning, to boot." she added, with a shit-eating grin.

He ignored Chloe, eyes boring straight through Max. "I don't know what your fucking scam is, but stop it! Get the hell out of here, before I call security down and have you thrown out of the fair!"

Max crossed her arms, glaring down hard at the man through her aviator sunglasses. "Really? For what? Winning? How you gonna explain that? We're _too good_ at your games? You wanna take back the prizes we gave away to all those kids? I'd like to see you sell that line to the parents."

Max and the manager stared down at each other, a silent battle of pure will taking place on an unspoken battlefield. As before with Frank, Max quietly waited to see who would crack first, sure as hell that it wasn't going to be her.

 _On the other hand, I've already made enough of a scene. Stupid, Max. Trying to keep a low profile, and here I am, drawing attention..._

"You know what? We were just about to go anyhow." Max muttered, willing to end the dispute.

"But only if you're willing to sweeten the deal!" Chloe suddenly added.

 _Ah God. Che!_

The small man snorted, chomping down hard against the cigar clenched between his teeth. "Hah! Fuck, I _knew_ you were playing a con. Fine, what it gonna take to get you two the hell away from my part of the midway? Not that I'm saying I'm willing to pay you a damn thing..."

Before Max could answer, reassuring the man that they'd already had their fun, Chloe jumped in. "How about a couple of all-day passes for the rides...maybe a few bucks for some chow?"

He stared up disbelievingly at Chloe. "That's all? Just some wristbands and a couple food vouchers? Seriously?"

"You caught us on a good day. We're hella easy." Chloe smirked.

"Yeah, bet you two punks are..." he retorted. "Fine! Shit. Take them!" He thrust a hand into the small supply apron belted around his hips, extracting a pair of day-glo pink bands, along with a couple of ten dollar employee meal vouchers. "But if I catch you two hanging around the prize booths again for the rest of the fair, I _will_ make you so very fucking sorry!"

Quickly swiping the offered bribe in one easy gesture, Chloe tossed off a mocking salute, "Pleasure doin' bid'ness witcha." With that, she turned on one heel, snagged an arm around Max's and quickly lead her away.

Max stumbled at first, as she was dragged off. She leaned in, and whispered, "Che! What the hell was that about?! We should have just left."

Keeping her gaze steadily ahead, her friend whispered back, "Maybe. But you know what? Now, if the Feds ever comes through and ask Mini-Me over there any questions, he's not gonna remember you. He's only gonna wanna talk about the blue haired and tattooed punk-ass bitch who conned him out of some cheap-ass goodies."

Max nearly tripped over her feet. "Holy shit! That...that was actually...pretty damn clever."

Chloe preened, "Hey, believe it or not, I may not have your mojo, but I still can hold my own sometimes. When the moment is right."

Max laughed in delight. She leaned in to hug Chloe again, keeping it briefer than she wanted. "Don't sell yourself short. You're amazing, Chloe. You always have been." She then blushed, as they glanced over at each other, both of them coming to a halt in the middle of the fairway, the combined sounds of monster trucks, screaming rollercoaster riders and music blaring over the PA washing over them.

Chloe blinked a few times, and after a couple false starts, said, "You can roll it all back, you know. Probably should. I mean, we really turned some heads and shit, back there. I won't blame you if you gotta play it safe."

Max clenched a fist instinctively, bit at her bottom lip. One more moment of joy and happiness, of freedom, tainted because of the constant threat of capture. The pragmatic part of her was already calculating how far back to go, what to tell Chloe. To grab the passes and bring them back as proof. But in her heart, she glanced over her shoulder, and spied a few of the kids, still clutching tight to their cheap, Chinese made toys as if they were the stuff of dreams

It only took a second for her to make up her mind.

She couldn't take that away from them, even if they wouldn't know any better.

Wouldn't.

She turned back and shook her head. "Gonna make a stand, Che. I mean shit, I'll be long gone from here in a few hours. And...and think of it this way, Nathan got his ass handed to him by me, and I drew a gun on the guy, so he'll totally give me up if and when Damocles blows through town. And then they'll put two and two together on the thing with Kate, yesterday. Plus Frank, so..." She shook her head. "It's too late. Thank you for trying to jump in front of a bullet for me, or something, back there."

"Ha ha, yeah, well..." Chloe said, fidgeting a bit. "What good is a sidekick if they can't save the boss now and then."

"Thanks, Blue Canary." Max giggled.

They stood together for a few seconds, unsure of what to say next, when Chloe finally broke the tension, and stated, "Hey, I'm gonna take this awesome scooter and whoever the fuck this weird purple and white character with the gem over her boobs is supposed to be, and bring them back to my truck. Let's hit up the rides in a few minutes."

* * *

Max busied herself for a short while, taking in all of the various agricultural wonders that Marion County had on proud display in one of the promotional barns before Chloe made her return.

"Okay, so how about the Mind Scrambler first, and then the Zipper, and that thing that, holy fuck, looks like it just drops you down hard! Ha ha, yeah! Then food. Because it would be really hella embarrassing if you yaked up a bunch of nachos all over me." Chloe said excitedly, gently punching her shoulder at the last bit.

Max punched back. "Ha! Fuck you, bitch. They once had NASA put me in one of those high-G centrifugal force simulators. I'll get on those rides, and just..." At this, she made an exaggerated show of yawning.

"Jesus, really? What the hell for? I mean, why did they do that to you?"

Max shrugged. "Can't remember. Uh. Something something...comprehensive assessment...full extent of...I don't know. I'm just going to say some asshole over at the S.O.A.P. really likes tormenting Specials and leave it at that."

"You know what, Maxima?" Chloe said.

"What?"

"You're so full of shit. I am the Zipper queen! Prepare to eat _all_ my awesome!"

By the time the two of them got their fill of being whipped around, dropped, lifted and shook, even Max was looking green around the gills, and ready to stop for a while. "How...about the Ferris wheel?" Chloe offered. "You know, get a nice view of the countryside up there. Catch your breath. That kind of thing."

Max glanced over towards it, and then nodded. "Yeah. Seems good. Although you sound like you're suspiciously overselling the experience." she teased.

The other girl blushes furiously, and shook her head, "Just...I thought it would be something nice for you, one last great view of the country, before you had to..you know, take off. Look, I'll even get your camera. Gotta have some awesome shots waiting for you, up there.

Max mused, tapping her lips in consideration.

 _Pretty great suggestion, really._

The sun was setting, promising to coat the land in liquid golden fire. God only knew when she was going to get another chance like this, an opportunity to just be Max Caulfield, aspiring photographer.

"Sure!"

Five minutes later, they boarded the ferris wheel, finding they had the entire ride to themselves. Max slumped back into the old style gondola, which forced the pair of them to sit side by side and face towards the same direction. She let out a soft breath, and watched the world go by, in slow rising and falling sweeps. The sun sank down, ever lower against the horizon, a golden orb of hope and promise...

 _Only to be forever swallowed up by the night...wowser. That's fucking grim._

And yet, it felt like the life that awaited her. Despite the strange interaction in the morning that prompted Max's sudden epiphany, she was honestly grateful for all the delays and excuses that Chloe found over the course of the day to keep them together.

 _Like she's fighting for me. Fighting for us. Against the odds. She knows how hopeless it is, but she still doesn't care. Damnit, Chloe! Why couldn't..._

And for a moment, she considered pushing herself, finding a way to freeze this moment in time, for the both of them. To live in it, for as long as they dare. Together and free. Certainly, that was no more a foolish and impossible thought than believing that somehow, they could have a normal life together. Assuming she wasn't reading too much into things, and if Chloe even liked her... _that_ way.

As they reached the apex of the fifth revolution, the wheel came to a halt, sudden enough to cause their gondola to briefly swing back and forth.

"The hell?" Max asked, jolted out of her revere.

Chloe peered down at the ground. "Weird. Can't see them letting anyone else on. W-T-F?" After another half minute, the attendant called up to them.

"Hey! You two okay? Sorry, something got jammed in the controls. Don't worry though, okay? We're getting a mechanic over. Shouldn't be more than fifteen minutes. You understand? Fifteen minutes, I promise."

Chloe groaned. "Oh great. I was wondering how long it'd be before bad luck caught up to us."

Max grinned over to her. "No sweat, Che-burger. If the wheel breaks off and we go rolling down the fairgrounds, I'll just rewind us back. We're perfectly safe, one way or the other."

Chloe laughed at this. "Fuck, if we start doing something as cool as that, let me remember it!" She then turned to face the setting sun, leaning closer to get a better view over the safety bar. Shaking her head in appreciation, she said, "This is _seriously_ the best view of the sunset, right up here." She turned back to her and asked, "Photographers have a term for that or something, forget what it is."

"The golden hour" Max sighed. Without a second thought, she held the camera up, carefully framing the majestic sweep of the landscape; the trees beginning to show their colors, the harvested fields. The distant skyscrapers of Portland, barely peaking over the horizon. Max felt like an eagle soaring on the wind, appraising her domain. Mighty and unchallenged. She snapped the picture and smiled like a kid on Christmas, waiting eagerly for the photo to reveal itself.

"Wooooow." Chloe said. "That. Is. Hella-mazing." She tilted her head and gave an impish shrug of a shoulder. "See. Toldja this would be the best place to go."

Max laughed brightly. "You're right, Chloe! Ummm." She bowed her head, glancing down nervously at the camera, her hands fidgeting. "Thank you. For everything today. Thanks for not just taking me straight to Portland and being done with it, you know? I'm sure that might've been easier; certainly part of me wanted to do that instead. Make a quick, clean break. But I see now I would've hated and always regretted it. I still fucking despise the fact that after tonight, we might...might not see each other again. At least, not for a long time. But you made today the last best day of my current life...the one in between, from the time you found me in your truck, until I walk out into the city, later tonight."

She was halfway to leaning in, with the purely instinctive impulse of planting a kiss on Chloe's cheek, when she stopped herself short. Cleared her throat, and tried to find a clever way to distract from the potentially embarrassing moment she nearly fell into, when Chloe threw an arm around her, pressing her tight against her side, and said, "Um...think you can get one last selfie of us? Think how awesome it'll be, way up here in the clouds?"

"Hah. Yeah. This is pretty much awesome, right up here.." With that Max leaned in close, holding out the camera ever-so-carefully, thumb over the button. "So. Cheese-fries!"

"Cheese-fries!" Chloe called out, as their vision temporary whited out, despite the flash being barely visible against the stark, vibrant fury of the approaching sunset.

Max tried her best to ignore the fact that Chloe still had an arm wrapped around her. The way her fingers slowly rubbed and drummed against her ribs. Gently stroking her shirt and...and...damnit!

What happened next was her heart making a successful diversion away from her brain, driven by frustration and exasperation. Such close contact with Chloe was now maddening. Max felt fragile, raw and vulnerable. Barely a handful of hours ago, she'd not only come to the conclusion that she was quite possibly gay, or at least seriously crushed out on Chloe, but also struggled to do her best not to follow her impulses, which were screaming to make a move. All for the sake of keeping Chloe - not to mention Max's heart, if she misread everything - safe. But the past couple hours were too much for her to deal with. She had to know, once and for all, what was going on, even if it made their eventual parting awkward.

Max leaned in close and narrowed her eyes. With a thin smile planted on her lips, she asked, "Y-you staking a claim here - uh - Che?" Her false bravado immediately cracked as she continued, swallowing hard, her heart hammering almost painfully in her chest now. "'Cause...it kinda feels that way. Like you're staking a...a claim."

She tried not to laugh at the absolutely precious reaction this elicited from her friend. The scarlet hue suffusing her cheeks, the wide-eyed look of terror and...maybe elation? Chloe stammered at first, trying to play it cool.

"What? N-no. I'm...that...you look cold. It's breezy up here, and I'm just trying to keep you warm and..." Chloe stopped and closed her eyes, her voice going soft and low as she continued. "Fuck. Oh God, I am. I think I am Max. I'm sorry. This is like the _last_ thing you need from me, though. The last thing, just as you're about to go on the run from The Man." She swallowed, almost painfully, and looked away as she gave a nervous laugh. "Jesus, look at me. Trembling. I thought I had this all planned out for the last hour, what I was gonna say, and now I can't remember a damn thing. So I'll try to say what's on my mind right this second."

Max watched, entranced as Chloe brought her hand up, fingertips just barely touching her cheek. "I've got...feelings for you." She then snorted, and rolled her eyes. "Fuck! That sounds hella lame when I say it, right? But it's more than just platonic, more than just best-friends. Shit that's been in there a long time. I can see that now, but only after yesterday. The Other Chloe, the one in the wheelchair, helped me start to realize it. Stuff that was dormant, things I gave up on, when I gave up on ever seeing you again. When my life turned to such shit, and stayed that way, after they took you away from me. But then..."

Teardrops quietly rolled down her face as she continued, "All of the sudden, you came back. And look at you. Confident, and skilled. A badass out of some action movie, and hella gorgeous to boot. An angel landed in my truck, Max, right when I needed her. The most special woman in the entire world." She started to pull back, "But what am I? No one. I'm nobody important. Only this punk bitch who never got over her father's death, who blamed everyone and everything else but herself for what happened in her life after that. Spent the past few years quietly dying. Fuck, sounds like I _would_ be dead for real, five times over this week if you hadn't come back."

Chloe reached up, wiping the tears away. Max could barely believe what she was hearing, transfixed as Chloe finished up. "You saved me, Max. You saved me. I'm gonna get out of this hellhole, and I'm making something of my life. Could never have done it without you. Because that's the most amazing thing about you; even after the shit you told me about, all the ways you got fucked over and tortured, the way they tried to break you...they never did. You're still optimistic, and inspirational, and thinking about everyone else before yourself. Still the same girl I fell...fell for."

She bowed her head, and lamented. "I just wish I was special that way. Wish I could be special for you. To you." She fell quiet for a few seconds, and then began to mumble. "Sorry...'bout this morning. Probably screwed things way up. I just...had to see...but it was dumb." She swallowed and gave a clipped laugh, painfully smiling through her own humiliation. "Dumb and stupid, because you're going away. Have to. Probably for the best, but I...couldn't hold it in anymore. I wanted a moment where...like...like I could see if you...because the way I felt. I'm sorry...I'm so selfish."

Max's heart was breaking and soaring simultaneously, as Chloe removed her steely mask of bitter, cynical detachment. Revealing herself, naked and vulnerable. Offering up her heart, yet so afraid of having it rejected. In that moment, there were a million things she wanted to tell her. Scream, shout. She would have traded all of her powers for just a moment's telepathy, so that she could pour into Chloe's brain everything she was feeling. Everything she wanted. Give her perfect understanding of the war that was waging inside her.

The war she couldn't keep fighting.

Not anymore.

 _Well fuck. Fuck it all. You only live once, right?_

There were a million things she wanted to say, but only one blazed to the forefront, falling off her tongue, as she cupped Chloe's wet cheeks in her hands and pulled her to her gaze.

"Chloe? You listen to me: if I am any of those things you think I am...some sort of hero, someone important, or special or inspiring? Everything I am is because of you. Because once upon a time, this golden haired goddess named Chloe Price saved the day for a shy, mousy little girl named Max _ine_. You gave me my nickname...did you know that? And more importantly, you gave me...you."

She let her head lean in, until their foreheads were touching. Both of them looked down, their faces framed by dying rays of sunlight. Max licked her lips, and whispered. "Hey." Then flicked her eyes upwards. "Dare you to kiss me."

Chloe choked back on a single laugh, glancing back up, obviously in happy shock.

"Go on." Max whispered. "Double dare you. Kiss me n-"

Their lips met again, for the first time. And it was good.

Great.

Glorious.

The morning's flirtation was but a candle next to the conflagration their soft, pure kiss produced. The air around her thrummed with vitality. What started off as a chaste touching of lips quickly deepened into something far more soulful and needy. Max, bereft of experience as she was, gladly allowed Chloe to take the lead. Teach her, show her. Lips parted, eagerly welcoming the other girl's tongue. Greeting it with her own. Max felt a melding between them both, and in that moment intuitively understood, at long last, exactly what Chloe meant to her. What they meant to each other.

Chloe was her reflection; her other self. The two of them together were one entity made whole. At last.

Their arms encircled each other, Chloe's fingers tangling possessively through her hair. Max felt overwhelmed, deliciously so, in the best way possible. Her senses intensified beyond belief, as her mind devoured every detail of this precious moment, committing it to memory. The gentle breeze caressing the both of them. The smell of fried food wafting up from the midway, mingling with the scent of weed and whatever deodorant Chloe was wearing.

And then at last, the kiss broke, but only long enough for Chloe to move in and start nibbling up and down along her neckline. Max tilted her head back in gleeful surrender. Gone were her fears and her cares. Every voice that might have cautioned her against such reckless, heedless behavior in this moment were crushed under the feathery yet overwhelming weight of her delirium. There was no Damocles, or time travel powers. No Nathan or Frank, or Rachel. No ever-present sword of disaster hanging just millimeters above her head.

There was only Chloe.

 _Her_ Chloe.

The two of them. Together. Forever or for a minute. Max didn't care.

She laughed, scrubbing her fingertips over Chloe's back and shoulders, prompting a curious, but blissful expression from Chloe as she pulled away. Just enough to ask. "What's so funny, babe?"

"Just...there's no fucking way I'm rewinding this. I can never take it better pray they get us down, or that the wheel doesn't break and kill us, because otherwise we're screwed."

Chloe giggled, covering her face in kisses. "Oooh! Then I guess I'mma die happy." Then it was Max's turn, to nibble at her earlobes, nuzzle at her neck, and cuddle close. So warm, so happy. Just savoring the moment.

"Wait. Wait, so I have to ask, Max. I mean: Really?! Me?"

Max laughed loudly. "Yes, dumb-ass! You. Really."

"How long?"

"I don't know. Always, I guess? The kiss this morning, just made a lot of things click into place for me. But right now, right here? It feels like it was always going to be this way. You and me. Maxaroni and Che. Right from the start. I just didn't know it, until now."

Chloe blinked, a dreamy, far-away gaze in her eyes. "Wo-ow."

With a clunk and a lurch, the Ferris wheel started back up. Max stole one last sweet kiss and quickly laced her fingers through Chloe's. Happy to let her help her out of the gondola. Ecstatic to feel her arm wrapping across her shoulders, leaning in and wrapping an arm of her own around Chloe's waist in return.

"Heyyyy, alright! Good work." a voice called out. The attendant's. Max glanced from the corner of her eyes to watch Chloe giving an extremely embarassed wave in return, before turning back, trying to swiftly move the two of them away.

"Ch-loooo-eeee?" Max said. "You wanna explain what _that_ was all about?"

"Uhhh..heh. I might have, sort've, accidentally-on-purpose bribed the Ferris wheel guy to stop the wheel and give us some time at the top? I told myself it was only so I could give you a good view for pictures, but...well. I guess part of me hoped something sort of like this would happen. Or at least, I'd get a chance to apologize for what happened this morning. Why I tried to get you to kiss me..."

Max leaned in close, her face barely an inch away, as she breathed out. "Chloe Elizabeth Price..."

"Yes'm?"

"That? Is fucking awesome. Absolutely. The best." She gripped her face, kissing her soundly.

"Hee." Chloe giggled. "Yeah?"

"Totes. For cereal. You are amazing. I never would have thought of that, and I've been trained by some of the smartest people in the world to think outside the box."

"Well, see, the thing is -" Chloe explained. "I've got this spectacular girlfriend. Hella class, all the way. So I gotta give her my best, because she _is_ the best."

* * *

Max was insufferable for the rest of the night; she knew it, but didn't care one goddamn bit.

In the last few hours the fair ran after sunset, Max only had eyes for Chloe, reveling in their new relationship dynamic. Soft coos of "Hey girlfriend." or "Hi sexy." escaped her lips as they nibbled on the same corndog together, or sipped from the extra large milkshake cup they were sharing with two straws. Chloe, for her part, was more than happy to respond, less with words, more with physical affection: hands clasped tightly together, or yet another stolen kiss They walked up and down the midway, hand in hand, not saying much; they didn't need to. In every hour after that fateful Ferris wheel ride, they lived only for each other, in the present moment alone. There were no regrets of time lost in the past, nor worries of what the future held. They terrorized the bumper cars, monopolized the bungee trampolines and escaped into dark, unknown corners of the fun house, all the better for making out without being disturbed.

The Marion County Fair became their own personal heaven, or near enough to it. An eden, where they could be wild, young and free. No one needed to understand them, because they understood each other perfectly. No one would give them any grief, tell them that they had a duty, or an obligation, or were too dangerous, or unruly.

When the time came for the fair to close, Max and Chloe meandered back to the truck and looked at each other. Clearly neither was certain where they were going to go from here, but in her heart of hearts, Max knew that Portland wasn't in their future. At least not tonight. She had no idea where she wanted to go, content to leave the decision up to Chloe.

They drove on, but only a few miles ahead, pulling off at a nearby RV park and campground. With the addition of their fair ticket stubs, they got a significant discount on a site; Chloe took great pains to ask for one that was quiet and isolated, near the back. Once they pulled up to their tiny lot, with only a firepit and a table for amenities, Max turned to her girlfriend, smiled, and said, "So. Camping huh? Don't think we're well prepared for that."

"I got a pad and a sleeping bag behind the seats, and a heavy tarp. Some ropes, too, so we just make a tent-garage thing in the branches of that tree over there, to cover up the truck bed."

Max laughed, "Done this before, huh?"

"Yeah." Chloe nodded. "Usually by the beach though, or in the woods near the lighthouse. But this is pretty much the same thing.

It didn't take them long to get things set up; most of that time was spent gathering branches and leaves, enough to start a cheery fire that gave them light and heat. The tailgate came down, turning into a usable enough bench to sit down on. They stared at the dancing flames, arms wrapped around each other as they cuddled.

"So what do we do now?" Max whispered against Chloe's ear.

"What _don't_ we do? The world is ours, babe. At least for tonight."

With that, another pre-rolled joint was produced and lit. Max watched as Chloe inhaled a great, massive lungful, and then moved swiftly, gripping her face, and kissing her deep, breathing the smoke straight into her lungs. Max sucked it in greedily, felt herself melt, a roaring fire lit in her belly and pelvis from the intense intimacy of the moment. She gratefully allowed Chloe to shotgun a few more puffs into her, until there was nothing but a heady, blissful buzz.

Eventually, she found herself slowly dancing in Chloe's arms, to music playing softly from the truck's radio. She nestled in, perfectly content. When something new started to play, it wasn't a song she recognized, isolated as she'd been from much of pop culture over the past half decade, but she could feel the blunette light up in recognition.

"Hey...Maxima?" Chloe said, with a bit of a slur in her voice. "Watch this."

Max opened up her eyes, watching curiously. Chloe pulled back and took both of her hands, squeezing tight. With a deep breath, she fixed a soft, intent gaze on her, parted her lips and started to sing.

" _She says I smell like safety and home  
_ _I named both of her eyes 'Forever' and 'Please Don't Go'  
_ _I could be a morning sunrise all the time, all the time yeah.  
_ _This could be good, this could be good."_ _  
_

Unexpectedly, Chloe pulled her back together, dipped her low, and then spun her back around. Max laughed wildly, and continued to watch Chloe sing along, completely entranced.

" _And I can't change, even if I tried. Even if I wanted to.  
_ _And I can't change, even if I tried. Even if I wanted to.  
_ _My Love, my love, my love, my love.  
_ _She keeps me warm. She keeps me warm."_

"Oh my God, Che, I forgot you can actually kinda sing!" Max exclaimed, breaking away in excitement practically bouncing around the campground. She thought there was no way she could fall any harder for her best friend. And Chloe, her amazing Chloe, was proving her wrong.

Emboldened and encouraged, Chloe reached out, tracing her fingertips enticingly over Max's shoulders and cheeks as she walked slowly in a circle around her, as she continued singing along with the radio.

" _What's your middle name?  
_ _Do you hate your job?  
_ _Do you fall in love too easily?  
_ _What's your favorite word?  
_ _You like kissing girls?  
_ _Call I call you baby?"_

Unable to stand it any longer, Max grabbed Chloe by the front of her shirt and pulled her close, frantically planting another kiss on her mouth, hoping that she was at least getting better for all the practice she'd had over the past couple of hours. She pushed her over towards the makeshift tent of the back of Chloe's truck, smiled against her lips, and then breathed out, "I hope this answered your questions. Also? You are such a weirdo."

"Yeah, but I'm _your_ weirdo."

Max flushed heatedly at that. "Yeah." she whispered in agreement. Then their eyes met, and Max forgot whatever else she was about to say. Between her newfound love for her best friend, the desperate urge to live for the night, and her brain swimming with THC, she'd never felt more high, or alive. Her hands moved, steadily but simultaneously with nervous trepidation as she unzipped her sweatshirt and shrugged it off. She immediately proceeded to pull her t-shirt up over her head, adding it to the pile. She blinked, and gave a wanton little smile to herself as she saw the effect it was having on Chloe. She pushed gently past her, into the padded truck bed, where she inelegantly removed her boots, and then peeled out of the leather pants, until she was left in her white cotton bra and panties.

Swallowing hard against the dryness in her mouth and throat, Max combed her fingers nervously through her hair, and said, "Chloe? Uhh. I...I don't know what's gonna happen, after tonight. Don't want to think about it, honestly. So, like." She blushed furiously, and tried to find her voice anew. "I'm yours, tonight. Anything. Anything you want. Because I don't know what to ask for, and you're the experienced one, so..." She laid back a bit, trying to somehow look more enticing, but feeling foolish for the effort. All the same, her heart was pounding with mad desire. Fear, anticipation, lust; all of these and more raged in her heart and mind and especially her body.

Chloe kicked off her own boots, and crawled towards her, a dumbstruck expression on her face, like she'd just won the lottery, or her father suddenly came back to her, in a way where nobody dies, and nothing wrong will ever happen again, guaranteed. Max could see her visibly tremble, even as Chloe reached one hand around, sinking fingers through her short cut hair, stroking her face with the other.

"Max..." she said, exalting the name on her tongue and lips. She tilted her head, kissing her hungrily, passion and tenderness balancing precariously on the edge of a knife. Clearly she was torn between a desperate hunger demanding to be sated and a worshipful need to make their first time together special, beyond any shadow of a doubt.

Max wrapped her arms around her girlfriend, suckling playfully on the tongue in her mouth, moaning low in the back of her throat as she felt Chloe's fingertips delicately trace the curve of one small breast. Max was equally split between twin poles: the desire to be completely, utterly ravaged and the want for this moment to be as slow as could be; almost serene. When Chloe lifted up the bra cup, and held the entirety of her right breast in palm, Max moved to lay her own hand over the blunette's.

Their eyes met. Max drowned, lost beyond hope in Chloe's perfect gaze, as her nipple was casually stroked by experienced fingers. She fell fully backwards onto the truck bed, silently pleading for Chloe to take her. She trilled in delight, as Chloe graciously complied, fumbling at first with the hooks in her bra, and then leaning in to suckle on the exposed flesh. Her body arched up of its own accord, hands twisting chaotically through waves of blue and violet hair.

Every time she thought it wouldn't get better, Chloe showed her how wrong she was. Every moment Max was certain she'd reached a peak, she was thrilled to discover so much more awaited her.

One sure hand slithered down her front, pausing to trace the outline and definition of her abdominals. Max adored the effect they had on Chloe, soaking in her adulation. Fingers paused, resting just above her cleft, and she wanted to scream with frustration.

"Max..." Chloe whispered against her ear. "If I do anything that hurts, doesn't feel right, you just stop me, okay? Anything that isn't amazballs, and you tell me to go slow, or quit or...uh..."

"Chloe Price, you could never...never hurt me." Max declared, leaning up just enough to plant kisses across her cheeks and brow. "So...so you get down there, and you get to work now, damnit. Gimme yer best, whatever you wanna do.." She felt incredible. And incredibly strung out. Like someone else was in the driver's seat now, taking over. Possessing her. A sexier Max. A hornier Max.

Her eyes rolled up, almost painfully, into her head as Chloe began to strum between her legs. She bit down hard as a thumb and forefinger traced deliciously random patterns against her clitirois. Nothing she'd ever done to herself in the past, in those rare, late night moments of self-discovery, could hold a candle to the almost-addictive spike of intense pleasure that threatened to sweep across her. Her thighs ground together, hips bucking up of their own accord.

One finger slipped inside, and she immediately burst into tears. She shook her head in response to the look of fright that crossed Chloe's face. "No! Good! Good, sososososogooood! Don't you dare sssssstooop!" The finger began to thrust in and out of her, in tandem with the thumb against her clit, and the two of them settled into a frenetic, ancient rhythm.

With shaky fists, Max pounded, nails scratched, teeth bit and throat mewled. It wasn't more than a few minutes before she finally came, the upper half of her vision briefly flooding with sparkles, popping in and out of sight, not entirely unlike the time she was subjected to high-G stress. She thrashed about, gagging herself against Chloe's shoulder, distantly grateful that Chloe endured her attacks without complaint.

She could feel something inside her brain snap, like a cracked dam surrendering to the inevitable. She could have sworn that her perceptions grew exponentially. For one tiny moment in the universe, Max could see everything. Every possibility, every potential outcome. The quantum streams and temporal estuaries of time. She let it rush up, and wash over her. So overwhelmed was she by the phenomena, that it didn't even occur to her to pay attention to what was going on, and by the time she started to float back down to earth, she couldn't remember any of what she saw.

She glowed with a palpable sense of joyous relief, cracking open one eye to gaze upward at Chloe, who appeared absolutely flabbergast.

"M-Max. Uh. Was...that you?"

"Mmmmmmmmmmmaybe? Dunno. What did you...what happened?"

Chloe shook her head, eyes flaring wide. She smiled with confusion. "I'm not sure how to describe it. But it was like time crawled to a stop for a few seconds, and then started back up again. Except I could see it as it was happening." She leaned in and whispered. "Huh. Well, always figured sex with a superhero adds a few weird twists..."

"Sex with a superhero? You make it sound like a topic you've thought a lot about!" Max teased.

Chloe shrugged once. "Hey,I liked I said, I write sometimes. It's all part of a healthy imagination."

"Well..." Max purred. "Maybe you could show me more of this 'healthy imagination, huh?"

* * *

The passage of time ultimately found the two of them naked, glistening, cuddling together underneath an old military issue sleeping bag. Max nuzzled affectionately against Chloe's bare chest, kissing at the underside of her breasts, while Chloe sprawled out fully on her back.

"Your great strength has brought peace to my restless body." Max murmured low, in a dramatic voice, grinning mischievously up at her girlfriend as she tossed off a quote from the movie they watched last night.

Chloe began to laugh hysterically, calming herself down enough to quickly respond, "I knew I was good. But I didn't know I was _that_ good." She shook her head, grinning like a fiend. "I can't believe you remember anything from last night. God, we were hella baked."

"We got pretty baked tonight too, though not nearly as bad."

They lay together quietly, Max wishing they could get an unobstructed view of the stars. She began to drowse, nearly falling into sleep when Chloe whispered softly, "Max?"

"Yeah, sweetie?"

Swallowing audibly, then taking a deep breath, Chloe clenched her jaw and said, "Tomorrow. When we wake up, and you head off? I'm coming with you. I won't let you just go and walk out of my life. Not after today. I...I can't..."

Max opened her eyes, sliding herself over onto her side, arm propping up her head. She gazed intently at her closest childhood friend. Her soulmate. And now lover. A thousand stillborn attempts to gather her thoughts, to create a stern, convincing argument, rose up, then died off in her mind. Rationally, what Chloe proposed was ridiculous. Max would have trouble enough keeping herself safe. Having to keep an eye on Chloe as well?

Clearly, the other girl saw it in her eyes. She frowned and shook her head. "I won't be a burden, Max. Because...because you need me. You need someone to keep you grounded, someone to help you out. I mean, look at the both of us, Whenever we were kids, we always came up with better ideas together than on our own. That never changed."

In the end, Max knew it was futile. She wasn't strong enough to simply walk off into the sunset on her own. Especially now...

...or maybe it was more the dawning realization that she was stronger, far stronger, with Chloe by her side than without. They completed each other. Five years kept apart, and they fell immediately back into a mutual orbit, closer than she could have possibly imagined. To abandon Chloe now was to lay aside her greatest asset: A reason to live. A reason to fight.

She played with a few errant strands of Chloe's hair and then leaned in to kiss her sweetly.

"Alright then. You and me, Che. Just like old times. The way it was always meant to be."

Chloe blinked. "Well that was hella easy. Way more than I thought it was gonna be."

"Yeah well. I'm pretty easy." Max said, tapping Chloe on the nose. "But only for you."

They crawled under the sleeping back together, tangled up in each other's arms, exchanging soft, sleepy little kisses until both of them fell into a deep slumber.

* * *

 **A/N:** Whew.

Whew! Just...you get the point.

So hey, it's Black Swan Friday. And now, **NuQueerWarhead** is in the editor's chair, cracking the whip and making the words dance their best!

I can't believe we're here, at this point. This was one of the scenes I had in my head from almost the beginning, and after almost eight and a half months, we are _finally_ at the point where we earn the "eventual lemonyuri" part of the story description and "M" rating. :-D There's always a special feeling when a scene that has just haunted you and demanded to be done for months is finally written, and polished and prepared and sees the light of day at long last. I swear I'm actually kind of exhausted. The writing pace has been really demanding lately, and **NQW** has be an absolutely awesome-sauceom sister of mine in doing all the edits and giving advice on my ideas for the eventual ending. Part of me wants to take one last hiatus after chapter 35 (which as of this note, I am almost 2/3rds done writing the first draft of), but at the same time, it's looking like the series might be over and done by chatper 39 or 40, so another part of me is tempted to just suffer and push ahead.

I hope this was worth the wait, guys. Obviously, the next couple of chapters get back to advancing the plot and showing folks what's been going on behind the scenes while Max and Chloe were eating corn dogs and um...heh heh. ;-)

Ellie is a nod to **rowanred81** , because they are both hewwa adorable.

There actually IS a real life Marion County Fair in Oregon, but it usually happens in July. Obviously, I played around with the timing for my own needs. Also: I will admit I am a sucker for county fairs, having grown up around some major events in my area. Especially the Eastern States Exposition.

Damn, I feel like I should write more, but eh. I believe this is now officially the longest chapter in the series, not to mention the first to crack the 10K mark. And next week, I think we finally cross 200,000 words!

Enjoy!


	31. The Domina Effect

**Wednesday, October 9th, 2013**

 **8:29pm**

Rachel sighed as the black SUV she'd rented pulled up towards the abandoned-looking barn out in the woods; it was barely an hour past sunset, but the surrounding forest seemed to consume any light shining through it, to the point where even the high beams were barely cutting an effective swath through the darkness.

Already, Rachel was in an anxious mood; really, the entire day wasn't doing wonders for her disposition. Hard enough, shouldering the pressure and expectations from the Zaibatsu for a start; she still didn't fully buy into the 'kinder, gentler' routine that Lethe was pitching, but at this point, what choice did she have but to go along with the job?

And then there was the phone call with Frank, which went about as well as she expected. He was sweet, or he could be. Rachel would be the first to admit that, but there was also a darkness to him. Once upon a time, she thought he was possessed of a 'old soul wisdom' or whatever kind of crap she might have sprouted in her earlier days of naive youth, but there was a nasty brutishness in him that her months keeping one step of the Russians and dealing with a harsh, uncaring world opened her eyes to. As much as he might have a soft spot for his dogs, and clearly had feelings for her to boot, he certainly wasn't the kind of guy she wanted to spend the rest of her life with.

Just another one of the chains of the old life that bound her to Arcadia Bay. In Rachel's mind's eye, Frank's was dirty and rusted, as different as could be from the soft but tattered velvet that encircled the chain that was Chloe. At any rate, she did her best to keep him at arm's length without being too bitchy about it. To acknowledge the depth of his feelings, and his hurt at not being contacted by her until today. She put up with it as best as she could, but there came a point when she had her fill...

" _Sure, you_ say _you were worried, but what did you do about it? Chloe at least went asking around. Did you know she put up posters?"_

" _Yeah, that was really kinda sa...sapp...I mean sweet. It was sweet, she did that..." Frank stumbled._

" _So what did_ you _do to help?"_

" _Oh, babe, I gave her money. Who do you think funded her crusade? She was trying to find you. For me. I mean, for all of us."_

" _Hah. Yes, three grand you just gave her out of the goodness of your heart, right. Is that it? Sounds to me like you found a way to get your hooks into a poor girl you were fucking jealous of."_

 _Frank was quiet at first, before he answered, "Now look, I got a rep to uphold. And three G's is a lot. I can't just go giving that kind of cash away, and have it be known that not paying me back doesn't come with consequences..."_

" _Well, good news. You're getting your money back. I'm buying off her debt."_

"Don't have to. She says she's got the cash, gonna pay me back in a couple days." he chuckled.

" _Don't care. You leave her the fuck alone. You let me pay it back, and you don't tell her it was me. You just tell her you're dropping it."_

" _What! I can't...I can't just do that! How does that look if..."_

" _I'll double it." she said, quickly shutting him down._

" _...just like that? Jesus fuck, I didn't know you were_ that _in love with her."_

" _Shut the fuck up, Frank! I'm the reason she got into debt, I'm gonna be the one to get her out of it. Now do we have a god damn deal or what?"_

 _The tone in his voice as he responded was pained, with an icy veneer trying to cover up the depths of the wound. But Rachel was completely out of fucks to give anymore._

" _Fine. Yeah. Friday morning. Six grand. Cash. I'll be at the Two Whales, eight o'clock"_

" _Good. Good, I'll probably be needing to get out of town not long after anyhow. See you then, Frank."_

" _Wait! Just a damn moment, Rachel. Wait. All those things you said to me. Everything we did together. Did you mean it? Any of it? At all?"_

 _Rachel bit her lip, and closed her eyes. The Rachel Amber he was talking about was dead. She needed to make sure it stayed that way. It was easier for everyone involved. Cleaner. Broken hearts healed much more quickly in hatred, if nothing else. At least, that's what she liked to believe._

 _That didn't stop it from aching in her gut as she did her best to coldly relay, "DMT's a hell of a drug. Can't hold me to any of my pillow talk. I mean shit, you should know the score on that by now."_

He didn't even bother saying goodbye, just ended the call right then and there. She felt the chain snap, the last vestige of that old relationship corroding away, along with yet another piece of her old decency.

All the same, there was a palpable sense of relief that she most certainly did not experience when she cut Chloe off in a similar fashion, a few weeks earlier. She continuously reminded herself that this was for the best. She wasn't like normal people...she hadn't been normal for years, now. And it was clear now that she couldn't be around them anymore. Not in any meaningful way. God damn though, if it didn't sting, somewhere deep inside, when she thought about the betrayal she felt required to visit upon Chloe.

 _You can't ever forgive me, and I don't think you should, but I can make this right for you, babe. My last gift to you. Because you are fucking amazing._

She parked the car in the clearing, stepped out, and stared at the barn that lay ahead. Somewhere inside was the only other person in Arcadia Bay who could possibly understand what she'd gone through earlier this year, by dint of having suffered through the same nightmare at her side. Rachel wasn't sure she'd called Victoria Chase her soulmate; she didn't know if either of them were capable of actual lasting romantic love with anyone, but they were lovers, on and off, all the same. Thus, there was an almost physical thrumming of anticipation in her abdomen as she carefully made her way towards the open double doors of the barn.

 _Shit, wish I was wearing flats! Damnit, Tori, why the last minute change in meeting place?_

She sounded happy to hear from her, that much was obvious. But also...distracted? It was hard to put her finger on it. Rachel called her as soon as she landed, and the pair initially agreed to meet at a nearby restaurant, only to have her call back around noon.

" _Change of plans, Rambie. Shit just got real. I'll explain when we meet up, but I've got an address for you. Gonna sound weird, but please...like I said? I'll explain when you arrive."_

She stumbled around in the dark until she activated the flashlight app on her phone, and then made her way inside. It was easy to find the hidden staircase set into the ground, since it was no longer so hidden. The hatch was open, light streaming up from inside the hallway it lead to.

 _What? The actual. Fuck?_

She took off her heels, setting them to the side at the top of the stairs as she silently padded her way down. Ahead lay a long, stark grey hallway, and at the end lay open a vault door: a solid six inch mass of steel.

Her teeth were set on edge, hair standing on end; something felt terribly wrong about the situation, like she was walking into a trap. On the other hand, why ask her to come someplace so obvious in terms of springing one? Why do it in a location all but guaranteed to raise her suspicion? She was probably being overly paranoid, but it was a recently cultivated trait that served her well the past few months, which is why the Beretta 92-A pistol was slipped out from its spine sheath. Undoing the safety, she pre-cocked the hammer back as quietly as she could, keeping the barrel pointed down towards the ground as she stepped cautiously , closer and closer to the entrance.

The bunker itself was as creepy and foreboding as the short walk up to it promised. Glaring fluorescent light did little to cut through the gloom. It was set up as some sort of survival shelter, that much was immediately apparent; with bottles of water, canned foods, and medical supplies.

Rachel could feel her heart pounding furiously, in her throat and wrists; she suddenly regretted not having any shoes at all, her nylon-hose covered feet offering little to no real traction against the slick tile floor. She kept her back to the wall, suppressing a few post-traumatic flashbacks of similar situations; times where she and Tori were desperately fighting - or hiding - for their lives.

There was a curtain, diving the bunker into two sections; past it, the layout seemed...confused.

 _The hell? This looks like a photography studio!_

There was a fancy setup, with a white backdrop, flash stands, camera on a tripod. Not to mention the expensive looking giclee photo printer, and the weird, somewhat fetishy, but largely disturbing photos hanging on the wall. She peered around the corner, spotting a couch...

...and there was Victoria.

She was sitting alone in the dim light, on something Rachel initially assumed was an ottoman, covered in a satin drape. There was a contemplative, almost haunted look carved onto her face. It was an expression that Rachel herself was all too familiar with. Something she'd seen before, on both of them. A weary, thousand yard stare.

"T-tori?" she asked, her voice initially cracking. She held her gun down, pointed at the floor, but held at the ready. Part of her still expecting a trap, to be jumped at any moment. "Jesus fuck, are you okay?"

Victoria jerked her head upward, gasping softly. Quickly, she extinguished the expression on her face, replacing it with a mask of carefree confidence.

"H-hey Rache. Yo, yo. Ch-check out my pimping crib." Victoria smiled, a little too brightly, throwing her hands into a ridiculous looking set of gang symbols and attempting to speak with what was no doubt the worst ghetto accent in existence. She continued, her voice speedily gaining in self-assurance. "What do you think? Finders keepers. A lot of interior redecorating, and I've got something nice. Gonna call it The Domina's Den."

Rachel wheeled about, making sure that she wasn't about to be snuck up on from behind. "Fuck! Are you...damn! I was really freaked out, you know?" Fear was quickly giving way to fury.

Victoria blanched, holding out her hands reassuringly. "Baby? Chillax. It's okay. Sorry, sorry for the dramatics." She bowed her head sheepishly. "Okay, in retrospect, that was probably a really bad idea. But really, we're all good." She patted her lap and smiled sweetly. "Why don't you come sit on Mommy's lap and give us a proper hello kiss?"

It took a good ten seconds for Rachel to force herself to calm down, carefully release the hammer back, and flick the safety catch on. There were times where she found her best friend as infuriating as she was delightful. With a groan of exasperation, she rolled her eyes, and made her way over. Bending down at the hips, she poked Victoria in the chest, and said, "That...was mean, bitch! Seriously, you know I still get nightmares about shit like this."

To her credit, the pixie-cut sporting blonde smiled with effuse embarrassment and nodded, "I know. I know I know I know. It was a sudden, spur of the moment thing, I didn't plan on anything like this. Just happened." Sorry." She patted her lap again. "I promise, I'll make it up to you."

Rachel smirked, feeling her trembling body relax, the adrenalin rush finally burning off at last. Shaking her head and glancing up, she murmured low, "I'm going to hold you to that, when you hear what I have to tell you. But first..." She took the time to holster the pistol, then slipped onto Victoria's lap, straddling her body. She tangled her fingers possessively through her hair, and kissed her hard on the mouth; it was a passion borne of anger, relief, desire, and the need for comfort. As much as she should be furious at Victoria right now, she'd missed her terribly as well.

Victoria's tongue wrestled playfully against her own, and the pair indulged each other in several soulful kisses before coming up for air.

"Mmmm. Mommy liiiike!" Victoria teased.

"You are such a freak sometimes, V." Rachel whispered.

"Yeah, u fink me freeky, but u like me a lot, Ray-ray." the other girl answered, tracing fingers over her cheek, teasing her with the lyrics to a recent dance song. "So what finally brings you to the Bay? Because, you know, you made it pretty clear you didn't ever want to come back. I figured I wasn't seeing you again until Cancun, in another couple of months..."

"Hmmm. Things changed. Bigtime. But before I tell you any of it, I have to ask: What the shit, Tori? What is up with the zombie horror survival bunker? And most important: who's the dude we're sitting on?"

On cue, a pained moan emanated from the 'ottoman' they were sitting on, dying off into a whimper.

Rachel slowly slipped off Victoria's lap and sighed lightly. "Wow. This is like Roanoke all over again."

Victoria grinned impishly, and rose up, smoothing out her plaid miniskirt as she did. "Oopsie! I kind of forgot about Jeffie-kins. Not that you or I are a pound over absolute perfection, but the two of us together on his back was proooobably a bit much." She then reached down, grabbing a fistful of satin, and ripped it away with a dramatic flourish, revealing what lay beneath: a bearded man with hipster glasses, in his early forties, kneeling on the ground, hogtied and gagged with copious amounts of duct tape.

Her eyes bugging out of her head in recognition, Rachel exclaimed, "Oh God! Is that...Mark Jefferson? The photography teacher? Hooooly fuck, V. I know _damn_ well you have a kinky side, but..."

The pair of them glanced knowingly at each other, trying their best to keep from laughing, before Rachel continued, "Honestly? I thought you'd developed this weird honor code about not using your powers on teachers. Or at least, not so blatantly. I mean, I'm not judging...no wait. Yes. Yes I am, a bit. I mean, he's so fucking hot, but you don't need me to tell you how wrong..."

"I didn't! I mean..." Victoria threw her hands up in exasperation. "It's not what you think it is! God!" she added, with a hint of defensiveness. "This asshole is a criminal, Rache. Sick and twisted and..." Her previously playful demeanor quickly dissolved, as she suddenly delivered a vicious kick to Jefferson's side. "Hey!" she yelled. "Did I say you could _look_ at us, worm? Keep your head bowed to the floor until I tell you different!"

Whimpering, he quickly complied, focusing on the task as if his life depended on it, making it the focus of his entire reason for existing.

Rachel blinked. "Whoa. You really gave him 'the treatment', like hardcore." She walked around and then flopped onto the couch, patting the spot next to her. "Alright. Talk to me. Please? This isn't like you...not really. So tell me what's going on."

Victoria sank down onto the couch, leaning against her side; Rachel was happy enough to wrap a comforting arm around her shoulders in response.

"You know, when it was all over...when those fucking Russian pricks were finally a memory, and we figured we were as safe as we were ever gonna get, I didn't want anything more than to pretend none of it happened. I wanted something predicable. Comfortable. _Small_." Victoria began, glancing up at the ceiling tiles.

"I know, babe..." Rachel sighed. She squeezed the other girl tight against her.

"And...and you know, it _was_ going great, for a while anyway. Queen of the school, barely felt the urge to zap people when things weren't going my way..."

Rachel kissed her temple; Victoria was a mind controller _par excellence_ , but she hardly needed her powers to manipulate others. She was self-assured and commanding, or at least good at projecting as such. Lovely and personable when it suited her. She knew how to get people to do what she wanted, the old fashioned way, with an imperious tone and word at the right moment, but for all that bitchy exterior, there was a soft vulnerability at her core. Where she kecrazyr self-doubt.

"...just like I wanted. One normal, solid year, that's all I needed. I mean, I know you're right, I know 'normal, forever' isn't in the cards for people like you and me...but..."

"V," Rachel whispered. "You don't need to explain anything of that to me. We're both getting through what happened in our own ways."

Victoria nodded. "Um...it all started a little while ago. There was a Vortex Club party..."

"Oh. Vortex Club. That still a thing, huh?" Rachel teased. She'd come to reject the petty normalities of high school as much as Victoria still clung desperately to them. She softened the blow with another small kiss.

Victoria paused long enough to gratefully receive it before continuing. "...and uh. You remember Kate Marsh?"

"Marsh? Marsh...oh. Oh! God Squadder right? Makes with the abstinence posters, probably a seething, petite cauldron of sexy craziness just waiting to burst forth?"

"You...you don't know how right you are. Kinda." Victoria breathed out. "Anyhow. Party. She was there, for some reason. But eventually, she ends up totally making out with half the football team. I thought at the time she got crazy drunk, or stoned, or something."

Rachel laughed, though she tried not to be too unkind about it. "See, so she finally loosened up. Good for her."

Victoria shook her head, biting her bottom lip. "No. No it wasn't good. I think, you know, in the back of my mind, I knew something wasn't right. Like she didn't mean to be..." she swallowed hard. "Anyhow, she disappeared. I didn't find out until later, but Nathan took her away. To the ER, or so he said, but...then this video shows up, of her at the party. And..." she hugged herself tight. "And I went along with it, you know? Hell, I led the harpies against her. At the time, it just felt...so important! That some hypocritical, judgmental bitch got put into her place! Like maybe once she'd fallen off her perch and realized she wasn't any better than the rest of us, she'd finally stop being such a prude..."

Victoria clenched down hard on her jaw, rubbing an arm as she stared daggers at the man trussed up on the floor. "...she tried to kill herself, Rachel. Literally climbed up to the top of the roof, and was seconds away from jumping. Right after this asshole rubbed salt in her wounds! The dickhead who made the video, and took pictures!"

"Holy shit." Rachel exclaimed. She could see it in Victoria's eyes; the guilt. The doubt. The places where the supposedly ruthless bitch peeled away, and the insecure, self-tormenting artist, living constantly in her parent's shadow, was revealed. "This isn't on you. Not your fault, V." She reached down, squeezing the other girl's hand in her own.

Victoria reached up to daub at her eyes. "But...but it kinda is, Rachel. I got so wrapped up in my stupid little high school life, fell right back into the old Queen Bee role. Like a comfy robe. You'd think I'd know better by now, have a little fucking empathy, after what we went through. I mean...I could have done it, you know? I could have been the one to save her." She bowed her head in shame and whispered, "If I hadn't been...wasn't such a…"

"Sometimes you need to forget so badly, you cling to the person you used to be. I understand that. But...but what happened. You said she tried...going to assume it didn't take."

Victoria shook her head, "No! God, no. Thankfully someone, no one knows who, but some, girl, I guess, made it up there, and talked her down. Kate isn't saying much, other than it was someone who called herself...uh...Mick? Supposed to be a potential student coming for a campus visit, but I did a little poking around afterwards, and there was no one like that, at least that no one anyone knows about. Or was willing to talk about, without me getting into their head." She paused, blinked, and then said, "Which brings me to how we ended up here. That whole thing with Kate was a wake-up call. I knew Nathan was involved, and I went to confront him about it. He didn't want to tell me anything, so...so I just..."

"You zapped him."

"I zapped him, Rachel. He couldn't tell me fast enough, he was so desperate to make me happy. And it was just...God! Jesus, Rachel, the shit he'd been doing. The shit he and Mark Jefferson together...did you know they killed Stella Hill?!"

"Wait! Whoa. Wait. Too fast, Tori. Back up." Rachel said.

Gripping her face, Victoria continued, "It was Jefferson! The whole time. The sick fuck was into kidnapping girls, drugging them. Taking pictures. This whole bullshit spiel about capturing moments of innocence as they fade away into corruption or something. They had this crazy Emperor Palpatine - Darth Vader relationship going on, him and Nathan. Something went wrong...they snagged Stella, but Nathan gave her too much ketamine. She OD'ed, and they dumped her body in the ocean. Um..." she started to rub her arms, forcing herself to talk quickly, while she could. "Eventually, they went after Kate. Let her go, but it's almost like they were trying to see if they could push her to kill herself..." she twisted her face up in anger, mostly at herself. "But Nathan...I think it was eating away at him. like he was dying. I mean, you and I both knew he had problems for a long time, but I never suspected...because he was kind of glad, you know? He thanked me, for making him tell me. He thanked me, because he knew it was finally going to be over."

"Christ." Rachel sighed in disbelief.

"After he told me everything I needed, I made him call up Jefferson and arrange a meeting, here at the bunker. Then I told to stay in his dorm until morning. I didn't roll him hard, my influence will probably wear off by then. But...but _this asshole."_ She rose up off the couch, and kicked at Jefferson's side again. "I went full fucking Domina on him! Made him tell me everything, every damn little thing. Shit like..."

Rachel could feel Victoria's eyes boring into her own before she continued, "Like how _you_ were their target, back in April! They were gonna make a grab, but the day before they moved was when the Zmei tried to grab us" She glanced down, shaking her head. "Stella was just the consolation prize. I'm...I'm sorry, Rambie. Thought you should know."

Rachel's blood ran ice cold at the revelation. She stared down in disbelief at her former photography teacher, the one she'd entertained any number of inappropriate daydreams and fantasies about. The thought of how close it'd been to being _her_ , the one Nathan would have overdosed.

Would they have dumped her in the ocean too? Or maybe found someplace else to bury her.

Victoria rose up, glaring down at Jefferson, walking around him. "And then I find out that this whole 'Everyday Heroes' contest he was having us participate in was just a huge scam to lure _me_ into this fucking rape-shack. I was next, Rachel! I was..." She suddenly slammed her fist against the back of Jefferson's head, who passively took the blow. "You like binders full of women, asshole? You like watching people lose their innocence? Huh?!"

Rachel was up on her feet in a flash, reaching out to grip Victoria's wrist, shaking her head. The short-haired blonde angrily wiped away tears, and then glanced back down at the man at their feet.

"You were right, Rachel." she whispered. "It was stupid of me, to think I could just go back, and pretend. So scared of my power, so scared of the world out there, the one hardly anyone knows about. Think about what I could have done, if I'd gotten involved from the start. What I could have spared Kate. Imagine what would have happened if he managed to catch me! Maybe I'd be dead, or maybe I'd be the one to stop him, but what if I wasn't? How long would have this kept going on?" She stopped, and shook her head. "I can't...I can't walk away from this anymore, can I? I can't go through my so called life, and pretend I don't have a responsibility to get involved with this shit when I can. Because who else in the whole school could have stopped it? A pair of plucky teen investigators? Hah."

Rachel wrapped her arms around Victoria's neck and pulled her close, stroked her back, nuzzling reassuringly at her ear. "It's okay." she whispered. "It's okay. I never blamed you for trying to forget. Honestly, I kind of envied you doing that. I dealt with all this super-powered shit a bit longer than you, and I'm not exactly sure I've handled the fallout in the healthiest way either. But it sounds like you did an awesome thing here. You stopped a bad guy, right?"

Victoria could only nod.

"And so, what...you're going to have asshole-man here confess to the cops. Nathan too?"

Again, Victoria nodded once. "Nathan will want to, on his own. I think he's been praying for someone to catch him at last. Give him the out. But _this_ sack of shit here doesn't get a choice."

"So call that a win. When the time came when you absolutely knew something was wrong, and you were in a position to make it right, you took charge. Don't look back, don't second guess yourself. I'm...I'm really proud of you, V. I mean that."

"Th-thanks." Victoria said, ruefully.

"So I hate to switch tracks, but this is a pretty fitting segway: I - ah - I have a mission. Something pretty intense. World changing, potentially, not to put too much pressure on you. Super lucrative too, though, oh my God! So why don't we clean this situation up here, and you come with me. I'm renting a house, a fancy little Victorian. There's a hot tub, and - um - I have that black lingerie set you like to see me in, and after business, we could take your mind off things, with a bunch of playtime..." Rachel continued to rub her friend's back reassuringly.

Victoria took a deep, sharp breath, and then let it out all at once. She blinked, at the mention of "world changing." More so at "super lucrative." But she didn't react, other than to say, "Yeah. I'd like that." She stepped back and looked around. "Too bad, you know. This is an awesome hideout. And dickboy's got some amazing, high end photo equipment. I mean, it's evidence now but..." she shook her head, and laughed once. "But I'll make do with a moral victory. This time." She stepped back, straightened up and smoothed her clothes out again.

"Thanks, Rambie." She sighed, before putting the mask back on. Her bearing becoming more regal, her air increasingly imperious. She walked over, grabbed a knife from a nearby table, and began to hack away at the tape binding Jefferson up.

"Get up, asshole. On your feet." she intoned. Rachel could feel her using her power; as a Null, or something close to it, she was far more in tune to when abilities were being used. There was a certain quality that Victoria's voice took when she used what she could do: dark, sensuous, mellifluous. Like honey, or sex. Rachel gave a shiver; there was a part of her that loved seeing her do her thing. Or having that power turned on her, during some of their more intense bedroom experiences.

Jefferson achingly did as commanded; Rachel could practically hear all the pops and creaks as his body protested from having been kept in one tight position for so long.

"Mark, do you love me?" Victoria asked, an unkind smile on her lips.

He nodded frantically, "I do! I do Victoria! I swear it! Oh God, you have no idea..."

 _Damn, she's really letting him have it. Usually, it's just a gentle nudge here or there, if she wants something from someone. Can't say I blame her._

"Well, here's your chance to prove it." She patted him hard on the cheek. "You're going to go to the police. And you're going to turn yourself in. Make a full confession. And you're going to cooperate with them, no matter what. You will be damningly and brutally honest, about everything you and Nathan have done." She paused, tilting her head in thought. "But you will, of course, make it clear as to how much you were manipulating him. Making him...making him do things."

He reached up to absent-mindedly wipe a line of drool off the corner of his mouth as he nodded in understanding.

"And one last bit: You will never mention that you saw me, or Rachel here tonight. You will never explain that you are obeying my orders. If anyone asks, you're turning yourself in because the guilt of almost killing someone as pure as Kate Marsh was too much for you to bear. Do you understand me?!"

His jaw was slack, eyes unfocused. All he could do was nod once more, and mumble back the last few things said to him.

"Then go! Get out, you fucking dog! Obey me!"

Jefferson all but ran out of the bunker, up the stairs, and out of the barn. Rachel wasn't sure where he was parked, given she didn't see another car, but she figured he must have had a way to come over. Of course, under Victoria's extreme influence, he would just as willingly run all the miles to the police station on foot, without stopping to catch his breath.

"Wow. You _really_ fucked him up. How long is he gonna be that way, you think?"

Victoria languidly shrugged. "Don't know. Never hit someone that hard before. But if I had to guess, maybe a few weeks? A few months, tops. Eventually, he'll come to his senses, but it'll probably be a slow thing. Or...or who knows? Maybe he's fucked up forever. I'm not gonna cry if he is."

Rachel hmmmed in the back of her throat. "Well, if it goes like anything like what's happened with your power in the past, he probably won't realize that you did this to him. His mind'll just chalk it up to a weird obsession, especially since A) he's crazy and B) he was about to try and kidnap you anyhow."

"Yeah. Lucky me." Victoria spat.

They were silent for a long while. Rachel spotted a package of latex gloves on the counter. She put on a pair and then sifted through some of the photos that were collected.

 _Huh. If you can get past the absolutely horrifying reality that these pictures were taken of kidnapped and drugged women, violated against their will, there's a haunting, authentic aspect to them._

She shuddered, and put the binders back on the shelf for the police to eventually find.

"So...so you mentioned a job?" Victoria asked at last. "And...a hot tub?" She smiled now, the old self-confidence returning by the minute.

"Yeah. I did. Gonna warn you though, after I tell you what's up, you might feel like giving this 'normal life' routine one more shot."

"Doubtful." Victoria responded. "But now I'm definitely intrigued."

They tidied things up, wiping off their prints and removing any trace of their presence before heading off.

* * *

An hour later, the two of them were safely ensconced in a brightly colored "painted lady" style Victorian house. Rachel made her way into the oversized master bathroom, bringing with her a silver tray, upon which two tumblers of campari cocktails rested. Wrapped up in a black silk robe, her honey-blonde hair tied back into a tail, she put the tray down and offered one of the glasses over to Victoria.

Sighing delicately, the other girl said, "Have to admit, you always did know how to live." She took a pull of her drink, and asked. "How much are you paying to rent this place, anyhow?"

"Never you mind." Rachel teased. "We won't be here long anyhow. Assuming I can get you to come with me? But suffice it to say, there's still plenty of the half-million dollar retainer fee the client put up in advance."

Victoria nearly spat out what was in her mouth. "Half a million?! And that's how much of the payday?"

"Oh. You know. The usual ten percent."

"Five million?! The whole job is worth five...million? Actual American dollars, right? Because I still remember what happened with that last job, where we got paid in Icelandic whatever the hell money they use…"

"Kroners." Rachel quickly interjected.

"Whatever! It still sounds like some bullshit currency that shouldn't actually exist..." Victoria grinned playfully as she recounted that embarrassing mix up.

Rachel frowned, taking a long pull from her own tumbler, but then broke out into a smile, despite herself. "That was pretty fucking funny, wasn't it? Besides, it worked out in the end..."

"Yeah, after I _made_ those drug lords sweeten the deal. You know, within reason."

"And now we can't show our faces in Iceland for like the next ten years, which is a damn shame because I absolutely loved the scenery there. But yes, it's actual US dollars. Don't worry, Princess." Rachel reassured.

Victoria snorted. "Oh believe me, I worry. I worry about what the hell we're expected to do for five million dollars. Geezus, Rambie! They're not paying us to kill someone, are they? Or is it going to be more like...you know. Roanoke?" Victoria took another swig and laughed lightly. "We had so much fun then."

"Hah. We did. But no, nothing that easy or amusing." She paused, taking a measured pull of her own drink, and smiled, as she tried to figure out how to explain the job without sound like an idiot.

 _Best to just jump right in._

"Okay, so you know about Kronos right. Heard the stories about them?"

"Oh, yes yes. The living key to the trans-infinite! Avatar of the Many Woooorlds!" Victoria called out with a dramatic flourish. "Or, at least that's how I remember Doctor Prometheus describing him. Like he was a real person or something." She paused, the cheery expression on her face collapsing into something far more somber. She held out her glass to Rachel and softly said, "To Doc. P. Guy was super crazy, but...but he was cool, too. He saw the best in everything, and he made you want to do the same."

Rachel touched her drink to Victoria's and took a sip. "Mmmm. Yeah. Well." she started. "I'll get right to it. Apparently, Kronos is real. _She_ is a teenager who can manipulate time, and spent the past five years being help captive while Homeland Security studied and exploited her. The Damocles Initiative was training Kronos to be one of their stormtroopers, but then suddenly she got loose. Now the Zaibatsu want her."

Victoria's grip on her drink slipped, the luridly red liquid spreading out amongst the sizzling bubbles in the hot tub. "Fuck!" With practiced grace, Rachel scooped out the old glass and handed her own to her friend.

"You're shitting me! This is a joke, right?!"

Rachel shook her head. "No. I'm pretty sure this is absolutely serious. Or at least the Zaibatsu thinks so. The handler they sent to approach me about the job? I think he might be ex-S.O.A.P., like a defector. Dunno if he's Damocles, he could just as easily be one of their researchers, but it's obvious he knows her personally. Or acts like he does."

Victoria blinked, swallowed hard, and stammered a bit. "Uh - um - look. Baby. I think this whole thing we're doing with the Supers-For-Hire bit is awesome, and I always figured it's what I was going to end up doing with my life for a while...you know, _after_ high school. Fucking great way to pay for college, if nothing else. But...but this sounds out of our league. _Way_ out of it."

"What can she do to us? Seriously, between my shielding and nulling ability, and your power to control minds, the fact that she's about our age, we actually have a pretty good shot. They just want us to help them find her. Convince her to come on board." Rolling her eyes, and with a tone of mock condescension, Rachel continued, "Look, let me get her picture, so you can see she's just a human being. Not the Specials Antichrist everyone made her legend out to be."

Rachel walked over into the bedroom, quickly retrieving the photo that Lethe handed her yesterday, and brought it back to the bathroom. "Careful, don't get it too wet."

"Yes, I know how to handle photos in the hot tub, Mother. Thank you." Victoria studied it; as the seconds passed, Victoria's eyes narrowed, pulling the photo closer to her face for a more careful inspection.

Finally she handed it back, and laughed. "Hah! If I didn't know better, I'd swear she looks like some girl I went to middle school with."

Rachel glanced upwards, and muttered, "Yeah, Tori. What- _ever_. Kronos looks like half the white girls in the Pacific Northwest…"

Victoria took another sip of her drink. "No, dude. For real. She looks just a like..." A pause. Another sip. "Oh shit."

Covering her eyes with her hand, and in a tone dripping with exasperation, Rachel bemoaned, "Victoria. No. Just...no. You did _not_ go to school with Kronos. Give it up."

"Jesus, Rachel, listen to me, okay? Because it was five years ago. I barely remember this girl, except for the fact that the last day I ever saw her, she was called to the Principal's office. And then no one ever saw her again. Umm, except I think someone said something about her going to school in Seattle, or something."

Rachel uncovered her eyes and turned fully towards the blonde. "I'm listening."

"Yeah! Yeah, shit. What was her name?" Victoria drained half her glass in one gulp, and tried rapping on her forehead with her knuckles to jog her memory. "Ohhhhh, right on the tip of my tongue! Christ! Driving me nuts...there was something weird about that day...it was…"

Making a dramatic show of rolling her head around, Rachel turned on one heel and started to depart. "Yeah, okay, well I'm gonna make myself another tasty beverage while you…"

"Max!" Victoria cried out.

Rachel paused, mid-stride. "The fuck you say?"

"Max! That was it. Maxine really, but ooooh God, she'd get all in your face like an asshole if you didn't call her Max."

 _...oh shit! Didn't Lethe say something like that?_

"Madame, you had my curiosity. Now, you have my interest." Rachel quietly replied, quoting a favorite movie from last year.

Victoria laughed in response. "Yeah, the day she suddenly up and vanished she did this weird...I don't know how to explain it. There was a question about something, that the teacher asked. I don't remember what. British history shit. Naturally, I had the best answer. But, and I shit you not, this bitch jumps ahead of me and gives the same answer that I was about to. I mean literally the _exact_ same answer. Like she read my mind, or…"

"Or she looked into the future." Rachel breathed out. "Oh shit, Tori. The handler who recruited us for the mission? He told me her name was Maxine, but she insisted on Max. Hell, what are the chances?! Do you remember her last name?"

"Uhhh….ummm...fuck. Fuck!" Victoria splashed in frustration. "No. I barely knew her. Never liked her. Couldn't stand the oh-so-sunny disposition, and the way she was clearly crushing hard on her super-best-friend forever. Oh! _You_ know who I'm talking about." She smiled unkindly. "Your Precious Blue-Haired Gayngel, Chlo-..."

"Max Fucking Caulfield!" Rachel suddenly burst out, the final puzzle pieces clicking viciously together in her brain.

"Yeah! That was her!"

"Fuck fuck _fuck_! I can't believe...no wonder! No wonder she looked vaguely familiar!" Rachel glanced hard at the photo in her hands. "I mean, she's obviously filled out, lost the baby fat, gotten hella ripped. But I recognize her now, from photos Chloe showed me. And shit, you weren't kidding. God. I mean, I don't want to sound too harsh about it, but there were some days Chloe would _not_ shut the hell up about her. Swear to God, this one time, I teased that she was fantasizing about _her_ while the two of us were making out, and boy. That really pissed her off. So much of this makes sense now! Lethe, the guy who recruited us..."

"Lethe? What the hell kind of name is that?" Victoria sneered.

Rachel rolled her eyes. "Yeah, I know right? People are still so fucking into their precious codenames." She leaned in and playfully tweaked Victoria's nose. "Domina."

"Hey now!" Victoria protested. "The Domina is what I am, not just who." She crossed her legs in the water, tilting her head up imperiously.

Rachel shook her head, smiling, then paused. "Oh my God, you are so adorable sometimes!" She rested her elbow on the tub, placing her chin on her hand as she leaned in close. "Shit, now I forgot what I was gonna say. Eh, doesn't matter. Because we totally have a place to start looking. I mean, I was gonna go pay Chloe a visit anyhow. Um...I have some business to settle with her."

"Jesus, are you gonna make up with her or something? You know she almost got into a catfight with me a couple months back, over your disappearance.. Girl was cah-razy obsessed with you..." Victoria punctuated her remark by twirling a finger around her ear.

Frowning, Rachel peevishly intoned, "Give it a rest, V, alright!? I mean..." she shook her head. "God, I really fucked that situation up. Uh. Anyhow, we'll go and pay her a visit tomorrow. Chances are good that if Kro - er - Max went rogue, maybe she'd contact Chloe somehow."

"Really?" Victoria said, with no small amount of incredulity. "I mean, if she spent all those years being trained as a super spy by the Government, that seems like the last place she'd go. Because think about it, we're hardly the Special Snowflake Detective Agency here, Rache. If we put these incredibly obvious pieces together, I'm sure the Feds and the Zaibatsu did too. I mean damn, why do they even need us anyhow?"

"Not gonna disagree with you, that's an excellent point. I get the impression they - I mean the Zaibatsu - want to be as cautious as possible with this. They don't want to spook her, and maybe they figure a couple of somewhat familiar faces will put her at ease?"

"Not to mention the fact that you can null her power, and I can chill her the fuck out if she won't listen to reason at first." Victoria paused in thought. "Huh. I have to hand it to them, we _are_ pretty well suited for this exact job."

"Well, Lethe told me that he and his group were feeding false intel to the Feds, in order to throw them off the scent. So maybe we got a few days lead time. He also told me that they'd give us some additional info, assuming I could convince you to join me on this." Rachel leaned against the side of the tub, and smiled invitingly. "Sooooo. You in?"

"Oh. Yeah. You know, gosh. I really should say no, if I was smart." Victoria sharply inhaled through her teeth. "But a few million dollars has a way of making me extra stupid, somehow. I don't know. Do you really think we should be handing her over to yet another group that's just going to exploit her?"

"I don't think we have much of a choice. For what it's worth, Lethe seems to think she'll get much better treatment, but maybe he's too blinded with guilt, or love, or whatever, to see the situation clearly. Best to track her down, find out what's going on in her head, and then figure it out from there. If it's obvious she doesn't want to pick a side - uh - I was thinking maybe she could join our team."

Victoria blinked. "You have to be fucking joking."

"Only by half. Seriously, if she decides she doesn't trust anyone else, but is willing to hang with you and me, who could stand against us? It's not like anyone else out there can null her powers, as long as she's in physical contact with me. So, you know, that means anyone who tried to make a move on us, she could always stay one step ahead and give warning."

"Wow. Rachel, listen to yourself; Jesus Fucking Christ, you're talking about double-crossing the scariest Specials organization in the Eastern Hemisphere..."

"No! I mean, not...not really." Rachel protested. "Not as our go-to plan. This is just the backup, you know. Because, I mean, if we get in good with the Zaibatsu, we're set. I mean, for life. On the other hand, if we come to a point where it's obvious that she doesn't want to go with them, or maybe...if it's obvious she's too powerful to be with any one group..."

"So we'll have her go with our 'one group'. Yeah, that's 'brilliant'." Victoria quickly drained the remaining dregs from her glass in order to free up her hands to make air quotes. "Damnit, Rambie. Fine. I'll join in. If just to make sure you don't do something incredibly stupid, that _both_ of us will regret."

Smiling softly, Rachel leaned in and kissed the other girl. "Thanks, V. Really."

Victoria returned the kiss. "My share of the money, and I want at least sixty-five percent, by the way, is thanks enough. So you have a plan?"

"I guess? We'll check in with our new employer, pay Chloe a visit in the morning, and figure it out from there. Hell, maybe we'll have it all wrapped up before the weekend. Who knows, like what if Max was in Arcadia Bay the whole time?! What if we stopped by and poof! There she is! Or...or they're eating waffles over at the Two Whales!" Rachel said, with a manic note in her voice rising up near the end.

The two of them laughed at the obvious impossibility of that situation.

"God, that'd be nice. I'd hate to miss out on tomorrow's Vortex Club party. If nothing else, I have to stick around and see how everything at school plays out, now that Mr. Jeffer-shit is going to be tomorrow's front page headline. It really is gonna be the End Of The World."

Rachel paused, dumbstruck. "Jesus, really?"

"What?"

"First off." Rachel said, "Who the hell has a school dance on a Thursday night?! Second, I thought - I thought you..." she trailed off, then held up her hands in surrender. "Actually, fuck it. Unless Lethe comes back and says we absolutely need to get the hell out of town, sure. Let's go to your little V-Club bash tomorrow. God knows I could use some downtime that's more age-appropriate than what I've been running into lately. And then after that, we get to work. Okay?"

"Sounds like a deal to me. I'm sure I can 'convince' my teachers to give me a sabbatical." She frowned, then shook her head, "Shit, going down the slippery slope again. Anyway, are we done with the boring shop talk?" Victoria asked, with just a hint of a whine in her voice.

"Yes, dear." Rachel teased. "Sooo. Should I come in, or...?"

"No, no. I think I'm in danger of wrinkly skin here." Victoria emerged from the water, steam rising up from her flesh, as she elegantly stepped out with Rachel's assistance. She then reached out, playing with the front of her tightly bound robe. "You wearing what I think you are, under this? I mean, more than just the lingerie." She tapped her throat as she asked.

Rachel swallowed in anticipation, and gave a crooked grin as she started to help Victoria undress her. "Only one way to find out, huh?"

* * *

 _ **A/N:**_ Hey hey hey, kids! It's Black Swan Friday! Lyta somethings the somethings...NQW something something the somethings even more...blech.

(Sorry, I'm ferociously ill as I type this, so my wit is depleted. I _literally_ forgot I was supposed to publish this today until about five mintues ago. More on that shortly)

So wow! Victoria turned out to be The Domina! Who could have possibly seen that one coming?! I mean, you know, other than everyone? It wasn't well hidden, but I wasn't exactly trying to hide it either, considering it was more or less revealed as far back as chapter 9. Although I do like how one reader suggested it was Kate. I almost wish I _had_ made it be her, but that would have required changing around a bunch of stuff. But if anything, I figured anyone who'd read my other story "A Power Greater Than My Own", knew exactly who The Domnia would turn out to be.

 **[UPDATE]** I wanna take a moment and point out that NQW really did a fantastic job, not only doing the edits, but also with some absolutely awesome brainstorming that led to critical improvements in this chapter. Especially with the part there Victoria and Rachel meet up at the beginning, and the part where the two of them make the slow-burn realization over Kronos' true identity. The first draft of those sections were much weaker by comparison, and I feel rather shitty that when I first published this chapter this morning, I didn't give sis enough due credit.

Alright, so I realize this is very sudden, and I hate to pull this on you all without any pre-warning leading up to it, but I'm afraid I'm going to need to take another hiatus. I was originally planning to get all the way up to chapter 35 or 36 before doing that, but I've come down with a really bad flu (that is now starting to tear through the rest of my household) and **NuQueerWarhead** has suddenly been struck down hard with work. Technically, I've got at least two or three more chapters in the hopper, ready to go, but chapter 31 was the best place to put things on hiatus for just a little bit. Otherwise I'd be potentially dropping a hiatus in the middle of a two part chapter arc, and I know how much that kind of thing sucks.

The good news is that I'm only planning on going away for four weeks, and I'm also planning on this being the last hiatus before the end of the series. If the stars align and we're able to start back up sooner than a month, then I'll take that shot, too.

So see you all back here on June 3rd, when we pick back up with chapter 32; a somewhat special one, because it is the first and only chapter to be told from Martinet's POV, which I think is something long overdue. Take care!

P.S. Oh hey! Achievement Unlocked: 200,000+ words!


	32. The One-Eyed King And A Two-Faced Queen

**Thursday, October 10th, 12:01am**

Paul Martinet stared down at the half-drunk tumbler of whisky sitting on his desk, and for the third time in as many days questioned his decision in accepting the Directorship of the Specials Oversight and Administration Project almost six years ago.

He still recalled the briefing they gave him, barely an hour after he was granted the top secret clearances required simply to be fully told about the position. They'd shown him a government produced 'promotional video', laughably out of date, with production values that made him grimace. But when they told him what was going on in the world, what the truth of it was, and when they showed him the footage of human beings with remarkable powers, swearing blind that none of this was faked...

...it was all he could do to keep from bursting out into hysterical laughter.

All at once, his entire understanding of the nature of reality was smashed into bits, and then haphazardly reassembled. He always understood that the world was a dangerous place; one that required someone to be at top,calling the shots. Maybe America had to get its hands dirty over the years, but compared to who? The Russians? The Chinese? The Iranians? The freedom that the bleeding-hearts - with their rampant cries of 'human rights abuses' - enjoyed was hard won because people like _him_ were ready to make the tough calls. To brutalize a small handful, almost all of whom richly deserved it, so that the greater masses could sleep soundly in their beds at night.

' _Those who abjure violence can only do so because others are committing violence on their behalf.' I believe those were Orwell's actual words..._

At the end of the day, he slept soundly, but not blithely, with regards to what he'd done over his long career in order to keep the peace.

But there was 'dangerous' of the mundane sort, and then there was what they'd shown him: an existential crisis and a glorious opportunity wrapped up in neat little packages. A cosmic lottery composed of a privileged super-elite, the entire world's supply of which could fit easily into any podunk little village out in the American West.

He nearly said no.

He could feel the weight of some terribly destiny pressing down on his shoulders, and for a day, his gut instinct was to say a polite "Thank you, but...", then collect his pension and take early retirement. To do his best to forget everything that they'd shown him, and go about living his life in self-enforced ignorance. Spend the days working on his golf swing or maybe fishing off the coast of Hawaii.

But he couldn't. The night before he accepted the position, he suffered one of the worst nightmares that he could remember: extremist Muslim terrorists and what they could do with this sort of power. 9/11 would be a child's birthday party compared to what potentially lay in store for all of humanity if one of the Sharia nations got it into their head to send their Specials out, to sow as much confusion and terror as possible, to bring the Western world to its knees with just a few well placed shock troops.

In later years, he'd discover that Middle Eastern theocracies had a history of executing what rare Specials they'd discovered, as an 'affront to Allah and the natural order of the world.' But that still didn't change the situation. Not in his eyes.

Just imagine if there weren't so few of them; the threat they'd pose to all normal humans.

He made his decision, right then and there; someone had to go in with humankind's best interests at heart. How fortunate that, as far as he was concerned, it dovetailed neatly with America's best interests as well.

When he started, the most shocking yet understandable thing he came across was the cold war mentality that gripped all of the world's great powers, with regards to the utilization of the Specials. Certainly the mindset of 'mutually assured destruction' was easy enough to comprehend; most of the nuclear powers also had their own Specials, but all were too afraid to consider utilizing them in any meaningful way. They'd bound themselves to secret treaties, unspoken agreements, pathetic strictures that weren't worth the paper they were written on.

Worse yet, before 9/11, standard policy had been to simply monitor any enhanced humans that the US government came across. Put them on 'The Register', if they didn't want to join officially. Allow them to live a normal life, assuming that they behaved themselves. Thankfully, Martinet's predecessor had begun putting significant limits to this practice, but he himself killed the remaining trappings of it outright. He made it clear that going forward that there would be no more Register. He couldn't fathom the notion that men and women with the ability to generate fire, read and control minds, lift a truck with one hand or in one case, turn invisible, were to be simply trusted to go about their day to day lives - that power wouldn't or couldn't corrupt. It didn't matter that the system 'appeared' to be working for decades. The system 'appeared' to be working for decades before two planes crashed into the World Trade Center towers.

He received more than a little pushback in those early days, especially from Camilla Davies. It was a shame; he respected her competency, marveled at her intellect, even admired her beauty. But he increasingly lost his patience for her mind-boggling naivete. It was a shame; in the beginning, he truly hoped she might come around to his way of thinking. See the obvious, all around her. Under normal circumstances, he would have found a way to drum her out of the organization, but she was far too useful, not to mention dangerous, an asset to simply be allowed to walk out the door. That, and the fact that despite all her protestations, she always remained the 'loyal opposition'.

But even that was coming into sudden question now.

Damnit, why did she have to be so pigheaded? So stubborn! Why couldn't she understand what was at stake?!

Grabbing the glass and taking another measured pull from it, he shook his head.

 _In the land of the blind, the one-eyed man is king. But for his trouble, all around him make the accusation that he lacks the ability to perceive depth._

The moment they found Max Caulfield, he knew he was absolutely where he needed to be. He shuddered, down to the marrow in his bones, when he thought about what might have happened if she were born in a hostile nation. Or somehow managed to slip through initial detection, as was known to happen in the past.

She was a game changer. She was the internal combustion engine, the Internet, the Trinity nuclear test, and more, all rolled up into one; the great disruptor that would end the world as he knew it, and replace it with another.

Martinet didn't enjoy doing what he had to. He wasn't a sadist, no matter what people thought or said about him behind his back. He wasn't sick. Maybe he was narrowly focused, perhaps he occasionally suffered from bouts of tunnel-vision, but he always kept his eye on what was most important. And no, it wasn't 'fair' that Max Caulfield stopped being an innocent, wide-eyed thirteen year old girl with dreams of the superheroic the moment she went back in time and changed the past. It wasn't 'fair' that the needs of the many, the big picture, the safety of the world, best achieved through American superiority, required that he not allow himself the luxury of seeing Max as a person, and instead as a gift from God. A dangerous one. One that had to be properly developed and contained. Yes, the sword he was forging could easily be turned against him, but it was a matter of maintaining control. Of waiting for just the right moment, one where her powers would make the difference. Maybe then, she would at last understand, even embrace, the 'unfair' position life found fit to put her in.

And then New York City happened...

It was beyond his wildest dreams, and worse than his darkest nightmares.

At first he assumed the obvious; some radical Muslim terrorist cell, most likely that Daesh splinter group that recently claimed territory in the Levant, got their hands on a suitcase nuke and did the unthinkable.

Somehow, it was far worse, when he discovered it was caused by an Emergence.

But still...

 _...by God, we did it! We pushed that girl's powers to the limits. Crafted ourselves the finest one-hundred percent American made Second Chance. Seven million people still laugh, and sing, sleep and love and live. All because of the decisions I've made._

Because he was brave enough to keep from saying no, when they asked him to take the Big Chair.

There were unforeseen complications of course; he still had no idea what the hell happened, why Max ended up in New York City to begin with. Did she escape? No, that made no sense. She reported that she was somehow teleported; is it possible that all of the training, pushing her to her limits were unlocking new abilities?

 _My God, if she's developing the power to teleport..._

The irony that he might have created a Special that was far more dangerous than if he'd left well enough alone was not something he could allow himself to dwell upon. Not at the moment.

He wanted to give Max the benefit of the doubt because, to be quite honest, he was proud of her. Exceptionally so. When she found herself in New York City, liberated from what pathetically inadequate control mechanisms he foolishly agreed to in the interest of trying to keep the peace, she didn't run. Didn't hide. She reported in. She did her duty, and completed the mission. Saved millions.

That little girl, that extraordinary woman saved millions of Americans from death, and millions more from a fate worse than that. She changed the course of history; Martinet could barely conceive of the chaos and panic that the total destruction of the Greater Metropolitan New York area would wreak upon America, and the world at large.

But now, thanks to him, thanks to her, Americans would sleep at night because Max Caulfield did her duty. Because she was willing to visit violence upon those who, wittingly or otherwise, would rend the fabric of society.

Draining the rest of his glass, he did his best not to dwell upon the circumstances of Max's apparent psychological breakdown. He wasn't going to tell himself that it wasn't fair that he be held accountable for something that didn't happen in this timeline. Because he knew himself, beyond a shadow of a doubt. And he knew that if the situation came up again?

 _Damn right I would have ordered her to shoot that boy_!

Yes, maybe he panicked. Perhaps he cracked the whip harder than he meant to, but an inconceivable number of lives were on the line, all because Davies got it into her head that somehow one boy's life was worth more than theirs! And that was the sort of selfishness that angered him. That instead of seeing the threat before her eyes, all she could focus on was another scientific prize, a marvelous curiosity. Hers was the limited perspective that considered, to some extent or another, a single death a tragedy, but millions a statistic, when the opposite was true!

But agonizing over the past didn't matter now. New York was saved.

Martinet received the report an hour ago of an investigation into rumors in the Chinatown community. Apparently, a young boy suddenly dropped dead in the middle of the night, around the same time Max disappeared late Sunday. Thus, they now knew where Caulfield wound back to, and in taking the boy's body with her, she completely obliterated any possibility he could be a threat again. In a very real sense, she killed him twice over.

 _Was that your plan, Max? Was that the intent? I want to believe we can salvage the situation. Hell I need to believe things are going to be better now. That you'll finally start to see the world the way I do, that you haven't gone rogue. You're scared and confused, and need to be brought back home._

Max completed the mission when she could have easily walked away from it. And goddamn if that didn't earn the right for her to at least explain what the hell happened out there. She could still be Damocles' greatest asset; the key to guaranteed American dominance for decades to come. It was possible she could become trusted, over time...

...but regrettably, Martinet couldn't rely on trust alone. Already, he'd secured the latest specs on the CIA's current generation of implantable cortex bombs. They'd have to fit her with one, tell her that it was only a GPS tracker for her own protection. A half-truth, at any rate. It would be difficult to pull off if his efforts to get the Weyden Amendment reauthorized didn't bear fruit, but he'd worry about that later. Still, he didn't relish the prospect of fitting her with a kill-switch, but it was incredibly irresponsible not to take additional precautions. Not after what happened.

And especially after what he'd just learned, barely an hour earlier.

He turned to his display, as the video call he was anticipating from Agent Wright came through. She looked tired, but that was to be expected, given the late hour on the East Coast.

"You wanted me to call you, Sir? Afraid I don't have much news to report. We think we caught sight of someone matching her description on department store security footage in Quebec City. A few electronic record hits, looks like she's gotten kinda sloppy. Don't know if she's still wigged out, or if her powers stopped working, but at the rate we're closing in, I figure we should catch up to her by Friday. Maybe sooner."

Leaning back, Martinet took a deep breath and asked. "How secure is your location, Agent?"

Catching his meaning, she glanced around the communications van she was calling from. Reached back to lock the door, and took a minute to perform a standard bug scan, and then lowered her voice. "'Bout as secure as it's gonna get."

He nodded. "What I'm about to tell you is for your ears only, Nicole. This doesn't get out to anyone else. Not Rodriguez, not even Davies. Is this understood?"

She nodded once, and Martinet knew he didn't have to ask again. Wright was one of his best; she might not have Camilla's keen, tactical mind or Alanna's social personableness, but she was still highly skilled, dedicated to her duty, and truly understood the stakes involved. For the millionth time, Marinet found himself marveling at a natural system that not only created superpowered people, but the means to control them as well; he knew above all else, Nicole Wright was keenly aware of her role in the great machine of Reality.

"I know there's been rumors that I've been putting together our own black-ops unit, something I've not confirmed, nor taken any great pains to deny..."

The Unblinking Eye, he called it. Part internal affairs, part deep cover operations, it answered directly to him, staffed with hand-picked operatives; old hands from the NSA and the CIA, along with one or two former Damocles Specials whom he trusted in.

"...with the notion of uncovering new and increasing threats against the country."

Wright shrugged. "Oh? Huh. Can't say I'm surprised. As much as the Russians and the Chinese have comically shot themselves in the damn foot over the years, I know a lot of the small time players have started flocking to someone's banner lately, trying to make themselves into a new super-group or something."

Martinet nodded once. "Yes, I think we may have figured out who. An old name from the past, apparently, I had to dig it up from the files. They call themselves The Zaibatsu."

"Huh. Don't recall hearing it before. Oh wait. Maybe once? Sounds Japanese though, right? Camilla's been having us cozy up to Rising Sun over the past few years, so I guess we're in a good place to do something about it. Have them help us get more intel."

"Hmm. Yes. That...is another issue entirely."

Martinet didn't want to divulge his suspicions just yet; before tonight, he was more than happy to take the opportunity that New York City provided, to finally have Camilla removed from heading up Field Operations for questions of competency. He figured he'd offer her a transfer back to the Research and Development division, and she might even be mollified with that compromise; doubtful, but hope sprang eternal. At least that way the organization could keep an eye on her, benefit from her talents, but keep her at a much greater distance away from Max.

But now? Now, he was wondering if the week was going to end with her clapped in irons. It all hinged on what what audit team came up with, along with his own continuing personal investigations. As much as he found her extremely frustrating to deal with, as much as she increasingly pushed boundaries to the point of flirting with insubordination, he didn't relish the thought that she'd somehow turned traitor.

It was no longer an impossible notion, either.

He continued, "Look, I'll cut straight to the point. Earlier tonight, our efforts finally started bearing fruit. We think we've managed to turn one of their lower level agents. A report was being made, but the transmission was cut before we got everything. The good news is that we've discovered a few critical details. For one thing, we know now that somehow, the Zaibatsu has discovered the truth about Max, and her current status. Apparently, they've just recruited a freelance Null to track her down, and I suspect that agent is heading into Arcadia Bay to pick up the trail and look for her on their behalf."

Frowning lightly, Wright said, "Well that seems fucking obvious...but we know Max. We know how she thinks, how she was trained. Arcadia Bay's the last place she'd want to head to willingly, because it's the first place we'd go looking. I mean, we were getting ready to head back to the West Coast until we got that intel."

Martinet steepled his fingers and leaned in closer to the display. "Yes. Coincidental timing, don't you think?"

Wright was silent for a few seconds, before responding. "You think someone's been leading us on a wild goose chase?"

"Can't say I know with absolute certainty, but it's possible. We've had reports in the past, of Specials who can change their appearance, or project convincing holographic illusions. How difficult would it be to have someone or something that looks like Max show up, and lead us away?"

Wright glanced around, side to side, before quietly saying, "Shit. So it's not like we can stop looking here in Canada, then. Right? Because if we give up and suddenly shift back towards Oregon, whoever this Zaiba-whatever? They're gonna know for sure we're on to them."

Martinet smiled at this, impressed.

"Exactly. So here's what I need from you, Agent. Leave Rodriguez in charge, and head back to Seattle. If anyone asks, you're coming back to deliver a report, and collect additional resources to expand the dragnet in Canada. I'm...temporarily reassigning you to the black-ops team. Bringing you in behind the curtain, as it were. I know I can trust in your discretion."

With steel in her eyes, she nodded determinedly.

"Good. You'll be taking charge of a small team. I want you to hang back...we believe we have an idea who the Null in question in; an old Prometheus Institute member. We don't have a name yet, but we were provided a photo of the young woman in question, so we should have something in an hour or less."

Wright blinked. "Shit. Really? I thought Doctor Dingbat and the Hippy Patrol took the Russians down with them this past Spring."

He smirked at that. "She may literally be the last one alive. But if she's looking for Max on behalf of the Zaibatsu, then she might also lead us to any remaining survivors in the process.

"So we let this girl do the dirty work for us, and then swoop in and snag two or more Specials at once?" Wright asked.

"Something to that effect, yes. So I need you to stick to the shadows and keep you and your team reliably undetected until the moment is right. Can you do that?"

Wright gave a half-crooked grin and said, "With a small team that knows how to take orders? Hell yeah. Easy as breathing, sir."

"Good. Good, I knew I could rely on you. Again, it's vital that you not tell anyone else about this. Especially Rodriguez or Davies."

He could see the confusion on her face. The unasked questions. But he was pleased to note that they remained that way. That she simply accepted that he wouldn't ask it of her unless there was a damn good reason.

 _If there was only some way of_ creating _Specials, instead of having to hope that we can make do with whomever the universe decided to randomly grant powers to on a whim. It would make my job a lot easier!_

"Okay. I'll see you in a few hours then?" she asked.

"Yes. Be sure to get some sleep. I'll be sending you out to Oregon with your team as soon as you arrive, and we might have more information for you by then. I'm going to be honest here: we've caught a lucky break, so we need to capitalize on it immediately. If we play it smart, we might get not only Caulfield back into custody, but rival agents with vital intelligence as well. Who knows, maybe we can make them a better offer."

"Huh. Doubt it, but I suppose we could always be nice and ask."

"It's easy to ask nicely when you're holding all the cards." he smiled thinly. "Martinet out."

Martinet cut the connection, and rose from his desk. Stretching out his aching limbs, he decided to sleep at the base tonight, instead of heading home. Glancing down at the requisition order on his desk, he made a mental note to find out if the cortex bombs could be ordered in multiple units.

 _This situation with Max gives me a good argument for making the implantation standard procedure for everyone. Even a loyal agent like Wright would be dangerous if she were somehow co-opted against her will by enemy forces. God knows, now isn't the time to start getting squeamish!_

There were millions of people in New York still alive today, who now stood as a testament to the success of his methods.

* * *

 **Thursday, October 10th, 8:31am**

Rachel breathed in deeply through her nose, summoning up the courage to knock on the door.

 _Geezus girl, c'mon. If you can sweet talk an Argentinian militiaman pointing an AK-47 at your head, you can talk to Chloe's mom_

She bit down on her bottom lip; Argentina seemed a lot better than Cedar Avenue right at the moment. Chloe's truck wasn't in the driveway, so she assumed she wasn't home. That, or the truck finally broke down, and Rachel's old - now former - friend was bereft of transportation at last.

 _Do it quick. Just like ripping off a band-aid._

Balling her hand up into a fist, she reached out and knocked on the door, harder than she intended. But the die was cast. She shifted from foot to foot, quickly shaking the nervous tension out of her her head, arms and hands, before enforcing a calm, casual demeanor in her body language. She brushed off a few imaginary pieces of lint from the sleeves of her plaid flannel shirt. Dressed up the way she knew Chloe liked to see her, wearing a little bit of sandalwood oil behind her ears.

The door finally opened, and there stood the imposing figure of Joyce Price; the expression on the older woman's face quickly morphed from one of placid neutrality to disdain bordering on disgust. Like she'd just tasted something sour, but wasn't about to give anyone the satisfaction of seeing her spit it out.

"Huh. Well, if it isn't Rachel Amber, the two-faced queen of Blackwell Academy." Joyce grabbed the door handle, canted her head to the side, and said in a flat tone, "Got five seconds to impress me before this door closes."

Rachel held out her hands in a pleading fashion and quickly stammered, "J-Joyce...I'm just here to apologize. I know I really fucked up bad, and I'm trying to make it right, you know? That's all. I just want to make it right...to give her an explanation, okay? Please?"

 _Yeah. An explanation. How's this? Sorry Chlo-lo; I like you, I like you a lot. You were my top bestie, and I thought I was protecting you by cutting you off after Russian secret agents totally tried to capture me and a bunch of my other friends because I'm like this mutant with superpowers. Oh, what's that, you want proof? Yeah, sorry...see, the thing is, my powers suck by themselves. They don't do anything at all normally, but hey, if some asshole is trying to toss lightning bolts your way, I seriously have your ass covered. Actually, I can do more than that, but it's even more complicated. Anyhow, I probably wouldn't even be trying to make things right, except I need something from you, ultra-bad._

 _Ugh...fuck. This is messed up. Two faced, she said? Huh, kinda harsh, but not far off the mark._

Narrowing her eyes, the other woman murmured dangerously, "That's Mrs. Madsen to you. You lost the right to call me Joyce the moment you broke my daughter's heart."

"Okay. That's fair." Rachel accepted. "Can I just talk to Chloe then? I'll plead my case, and if she says she wants me gone, then I'm gone."

 _And then I have to make a decision about crossing the fucking line and getting Victoria to break out the hyper-charm on her..._

"Well, Chloe's not here." Joyce said, smirking unpleasantly as she said it. "She went off to Portland to bring a friend of hers to the train station. A real friend. Her _best_ friend. Long before you oozed your way into her life. Anyhow, that was yesterday, and Choe hasn't come back yet, so I imagine she stayed the night somewhere. She's a grown woman, and I don't keep track of all her comings and goings."

The sting from Joyce's barbs didn't have time to register in Rachel's heart; her brain immediately seized on what else was said.

 _Her friend? Oh...oh yeah. Please please please be..._

"...oooooh." Rachel said, exaggerating the sense of disappointment in her voice, in her body language. Paused, to look down, and then glance up, giving a shy affected smile. "That friend wouldn't be the famous Max Caulfield, would it?"

Joyce narrowed her eyes, took a sharp inhalation; Rachel knew from the reaction alone what the answer was.

 _Yes! Lucky break!_

"Not that it's any of your damn business, but yes. That Max."

Rachel nodded. "Cool. Cool, really. I'm glad. Chloe, you know, she used to talk about Max all the time. Told me a bunch about her. She sounds really great."

 _And some days, I felt like she could be a third wheel. So stupid, feeling jealous of a girl who was gone for five years without another word spoken but...they really had a bond. Almost like the one Chloe and I had._

"Uh huh. Because she is. Greater than a lot of other folks in my daughter's life. Or out of it." Joyce droned. "Well darlin', this has been real unpleasant. Let's not do it again anytime soon."

"Okay. Yeah. I deserve that, I know. Just...will you tell Chloe I want to talk to her? At least give her a personal apology?"

Joyce paused to consider. "I'll think about it. The fact that you say you wanna apologize to her is the only reason why I might not forget this conversation ever happened. Now...don't call us...we'll call you."

Rachel turned away and slunk off without another word. A dark cloud hung over her, as she again cursed the circumstances that forced her to drive a wedge between herself and her best friend.

 _Christ, Chloe. Would be so awesome if I could figure out how to bring you into this world of mine. In the end? Probably blow your fucking mind._

She laughed silently, and shook her head.

 _But then I'd be putting your life in danger. I mean shit, how irresponsible would it be for me to do that to you? To expose you to fuckers like Krashne Zmei, Damocles , or even the people I'm working for now. That would be a shitty thing to do to someone who's too fucking nice for her own good._

She slumped into the driver side of her SUV. Victoria was sitting in the passenger seat next to her, legs crossed, and playfully filing her nails.

"Soooo. I see she didn't invite you in for coffee and pancakes. You - ah - you need me to go in and have a heart to heart with her? I promise to be gentle. Just a subtle tweak in her disposition, enough so she's willing to have a friendly chat."

Rachel suppressed a shudder of revulsion. "Ugh! No! Fuck...Tori, no! You are not fucking brainwashing Joyce, even a little bit. She doesn't deserve that shit, and anyhow, I got the most critical bit of info I could possibly get." She smiled triumphantly. "Chloe went off to Portland yesterday. To take Max to the train station."

Victoria blinked. "Oh...shit! That...wait...is that good? I mean, fuck, it sounds like we totally missed her!"

"Yeah, but we know Max is here in Oregon, or was barely a few hours ago. That puts us way ahead of the game. I mean, it's better than no one having any idea where she is right now. It shows the bigwigs at the Zaibatsu we can deliver on the intelligence game. And then once Chloe gets back, we'll talk to her, see what she knows.

Rachel recognized the increasingly smug expression blooming on Victoria's face. She stuck a confrontational finger in front of her semi-girlfriends face and shook it. "No! I know that look, and no. What goes for Joyce goes _double_ for Chloe. No glamoring her, either!"

Victoria rolled her eyes, and heaved a dramatic sigh, "Okay first? Why don't you just give her a phone call, now that you're back in town. Second? I understand and respect you not wanting to go nuts with my power...hell, it's an issue _I_ struggle with. So appreciate it when I tell you this: you're getting too fucking squeamish about all this! Especially with _millions_ of dollars on the line, not to mention, like, the fate of the entire world. I mean, what the hell are we supposed to do now? Stake the house out for the whole damn day? Screw that, I still need to finish up the planning for tonight's dance party."

"Christ Tori, you're still doing that? Weren't you just giving me shit about priorities, not two seconds ago?"

"Yeah, I'm still doing that! Might be the last bit of fun I get in a while, before you drag me off again on this crazy job. A job, I'll point out, that would go a lot easier if you at least let me have a 'pleasant' chat with the lady in the house over there. Then we'd have someone on the inside, to tell us when Chloe got home."

"Victoria! God damnit, first, I can't call Chloe because she blocked my phone number ages ago. I mean, sure I could easily work around that, but this isn't something we should be doing over the fucking phone. Second, I don't care, you are not going...to...to...oh fuck."

Rachel paused, as the notion blossomed in her brain in full.

"Oh baby..." she started to laugh and leaned in, stealing a kiss from her now surprised partner. "That is fucking brilliant. A man on the inside to monitor the situation and report back to us. It's not like you have to tweak their mind much, just get them to do us a favor without telling anyone about it. "

Smiling, and then cupping her face to kiss back, Victoria purred. "Alright then. So we're going to go back and pay Chloe's mom a surprise visit?"

Rachel frowned, shaking her head. "No! Jesus, stop with that. Besides, Chloe really cares about her mother and would probably notice if she started acting a little funny, the way people you zap sometimes do. I care, too. Buuuuut, there's a certain asshole she won't give two shits about, and whom I have a _lot_ fewer morals qualms about you bringing onto our side, even if it's just for a day or two."

"Uh huh." Victoria deadpanned. "And who the hell would that b-...oh! Oh shiiiit. Him? Yeah. Oh yeah! He's perfect, if I'm thinking about the same guy you are." Buckling up, she then asked. "So. Back to school?"

Rachel nodded once, smirking, as she started the car. "Back to school."

* * *

 _ **A/N:**_ Hey hey hey! It's Black Swan...uh...Wednesday? Lyta spins words into brass, and NQW paints them gold!

Wow, so that was a quick four weeks. Amazing how the time flew.

Waiiiit a second. (checks calendar). That was barely a week and a half! What the hell?

Okay, okay. The truth of the matter is that **NuQueerWarhead** pulled a serious bit of amazing this week, and caught up on a bunch of editing, despite her crazy work schedule. So please thank her, because as a result, we now have a whole story arc's worth of material ready for final polish and publish. And I can easily do that over the next week. So I figure, why wait another two and a half weeks? If I have all of the Thursday Plot Arc roughly ready, then lets pull the trigger on this baby and start rolling again.

Now, granted, keep in mind that after chapter 35, I'll probably have to take an honest to goodness two to three week final hiatus, but I figure you all would rather get more story now, instead of waiting. That said, the past week and a half _has_ been ultra-productive. Aside from NQW's editing, I've managed to knock out another another 25K words. I'm very close to finishing chapter 38 (which is kind of a monster, and possibly the biggest chapter I've ever written for this series), and I suspect Chapter 39 is going to be the very end. By the end of the month, Black Swan may well and truly be finished, at least in rough draft form. It depends on if I can nail down that ending, which as just been this massive bear to wrestle. But we're almost there!

Anyhow, I hope you liked this chapter. I actually enjoyed writing it a lot. Antagonists have been one of my biggest problem issues as a writer, and I think a chapter like this really helped humanize Martinet, make him a bit more nuanced and complex. But still easy to hate. Kind of like Alfred Bester from B5, or Gul Dukat from DS9. Flawed patriots who see themselves as heroes in their own mind, and just when you start to sympathize with them, they turn around and remind you why they are such assholes. That's what I'm trying to get towards.

So anyhow...have a great rest of the week! Obviously, we won't have anything published for Friday, but _next_ Friday the 27th, I will see you all here!

NOTE: A tip of the hat to **Skylar Datenshi** for pointing out where the Doc manager was mangling my text. Thanks!


	33. Tying Up Loose Ends

Max slept deeply through the night, untroubled by disturbing dreams for the first time in days. But as she slowly roused from slumber, she couldn't help but feel a nagging sensation gnawing at the back of her mind; it was as if she'd forgotten something vital, and was just on the edge of remembering it...but something kept distracting her.

Something like Chloe's lovely body pressed tightly against her own, perhaps; their arms encircled each other. Max smiled blissfully as she recalled the previous day's incredible events, still riding high off the wave of euphoria spurred by her newfound love. She saw no reason not to hang on to the way it made her feel, for as long as possible.

She then worked on planting tiny, teasing little kisses over Chloe's neck and earlobe, giggling under her breath at the reaction they caused. The blunette moaned and gently swatted at her in reaction. Eventually she roused enough for the both of them to trade sleepy kisses and nuzzles; this went on for a few minutes more until the tranquil bubble of their private little world was shattered by a noise emanating from Max's lifeclock.

Chloe jerked fully awake, and looked around fearfully as a tinny funeral dirge continued to play. Max glanced down at her wrist, flush with embarrassment as she desperately tried to find a mute button on the contraption.

"Ah! Fuck! Jesus...scared me...Max? Whatzat? Alarm?" Chloe said blearily. "Howcum it no go off b'fore?"

Max blinked, "It...it never did this before, period! I mean, I don't see any reason why it couldn't play songs, it just never did in the past. Now why the hell would..."

And then she noticed the readout. Under the heading of **OBJECTIVE AGE.**

 _Oh damn..._

She'd physically turned nineteen years old, just this minute.

Explaining to Chloe exactly what happened, the other girl nodded, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. "Really? Mmmmm neat. Happy birthday, babe!" She kissed her face all over, before belatedly pausing. "Wait. Why is it playing music like you're gonna hella die?"

Max rolled her eyes. "Because that's the kind of shit that would fit with Cammie's sense of humor. A 'gentle reminder' that I'm burning off days off my life when I use my powers." She remembered what Chloe made her promise last night, to limit their use. One year for five, when she was using her ability every day to some extent as part of the training and development, seemed like a pretty good tradeoff to her.

 _But I didn't have a good reason back then to prolong my life. Now? I have the best!_

The two of them lounged about in their makeshift tent, soaking in each other's presence before Chloe whispered, "So what's the plan, BatMax? Today's the first day of our lives on the run."

Max blinked. She'd barely given any thought to survival plans when she figured it would only be her. Now that it was the two of them together, things changed; there were potential disadvantages that had to be taken into account, but new resources suddenly made themselves available as well.

"We...we're going back to Arcadia Bay."

Chloe made a face. "Sure that's wise, baby? Seems kinda risky."

"It is." Max agreed. "But hear me out. You're sitting on a pile of cash...thousands of dollars. By now, there's no way in hell I can get anywhere near my money. I'm sure the account is frozen solid, or if it isn't, they'll be looking to trace us through banking attempts. We'll do a lot better if we start off with more than six grand in our pockets. And we need to get you some stuff: your clothes, and laptop and shit. And..."

She bit down on her lip, as guilt crept across her face. "And I know you don't care about your step-dad, but you'd probably like a chance to say goodbye to your Mom? I mean...not tell her personally, but see her, and then slip her a letter when she's not looking? It shouldn't be too risky, really. It's barely been seventy-two hours since I 'disappeared' from New York City. As long as we're gone for Portland by the end of the day, we'll be fine. Besides, if we run into trouble, I'll just rewind back and warn you. Easy, right?"

She intentionally left out the possibility of getting Nulled by Wright, and having to somehow flee out of her range in order to rewind back.

 _No point in worrying Chloe about things like that..._

Chloe nodded, and then said with a grin. "Yeah. Sure, that's right. Early warning system and all that shit. 'Cause yeah, it would be pretty killer to have more than just the clothes on my back if we're gonna run off together...oooh!" she giggled. "That sounds romantic. Mmmmm. Plus, we get to totally screw Frank out of his money..."

Max blanched, somehow having forgotten all about that. "You think that's safe? What happens if he decides to come after your Mom for revenge?"

Chloe snorted, shaking her head. "No way. Never gonna happen. Joyce puts up with a lot of his shit at the diner...keeps him fed. Wicked Stepfather is too well armed and crazy to not bring the heat if Frank messes with either of them. So no, I mean, he'll definitely wanna kill _us_ dead if he ever sees us in town again, but that's never gonna happen after today."

"Alright then. I guess that settles it. We make one last trip to Arcadia Bay for a supply run."

They locked eyes and smiled at each other, Chloe murmuring "Yeah." in agreement. They both took a deep breath, and then...

"But first, we seriously need a shower."

"Really? You th- Oh! Yeah. Pfew! We really do." Max replied.

The two threw their clothes on, and made a beeline for the women's bathroom building further up in the campground..

* * *

They quickly stripped and made their way towards the small shower stalls. Max gave a soft sigh, relaxing as heated jets of water washed over her. She contented herself what she assumed would be a fast scrub and go...

...but that was before she opened her eyes and started sneaking peeks at Chloe.

In the full light of the day, it was like she was seeing her for the first time. Max couldn't help but gaze at her lips, parted in a soft, toothsome smile, and the tapered grace of her nose. How Chloe's head canted back and to the side, running her fingers through her azure locks as she scrubbed her hair; not to mention the way doing so caused her bare chest to jut forward invitingly. Max's eyes intently focused on the rivulets of water as they traced their way down her moist skin, starting at her breasts, and then eventually drawing attention to the curve of her rear and thighs.

 _Oh….oh God! I can't believe I never noticed it before...how absolutely_ hot _Chloe is! Hee...and now she's allllll mine._

She reaching out to grab the bar of soap at the same time Chloe did; their fingers brushed against each other, suffusing her chest with electric tingles, which then pooled into a hungry heat between her legs. Their eyes met, and in that moment, all she could think of was how much she wanted her...damn the consequences.

Max smiled wide as a naughty idea popped into her head.

She wrapped her fingers around the bar, and then leaned in, planting soft little kisses and tiny tongue tip licks against Chloe's arm, tracing the outline of her tattoo. She then moved over behind her, wrapped a single arm around her waist, and nuzzled sweetly at the back of her neck. Soon, soapy hands wrapped around the blunette's front, lazily caressing her breasts, and paying special attention to her inner thighs.

"Max!" Chloe squeaked in surprise. She laughed and turned around, blushing. "I know it's way late in the morning, but someone could still walk in on us..."

 _Wowser. She forgot about me rewinding time if I have to? Well...let's not remind her. That'll make it more exciting, right?_

Cocking her hips in a confident demeanor, Max purrred. "Yeah? That's what makes it fun, right? A little bit of risk. Besides, this is your fault, really. I should arrest you for criminal hawtness with intent to turn-on. And poor little me, falling prey to your seductive charms..."

Chloe laughed louder, and then tried to murmur low enough to still be heard over the spraying water. "Oh my God, like, you're so _not_ innocent now!"

"Really?" Max teased. "My first time was last night. Why, that means I'm _almost_ a virgin, still. Especially compared to you. I mean, probably?"

With that, Chloe double checked the thin plastic curtain that separated the two of them from the rest of the bathroom. She paused for a few seconds, before suddenly grabbing her by the shoulders and turning her around. She pushed her back hard against the wall, kissing her furiously.

Max felt lightheaded, as powerful pulses of raw sexual heat thrummed up and down her body.

She found it addictively thrilling, the way she managed to inspire this sort of abandon. Eagerly returning the kiss, her tongue pushing its way insistently past Chloe's lips. Her lover's chest was still slick and soapy from her ministrations, and they soon found themselves writhing and grinding needily against each other. A finger easily slipped in between her legs, and Max found herself more than willing to return the favor. They pleasured each other greedily, the white noise of the falling water providing at least some cover for their heated moans; as much as Max wanted to throw caution to the wind, and completely abandon herself to the moment, too many years of situational awareness training had been drilled into her head; she kept half a watchful eye towards the door, content that Chloe at least was utterly enraptured.

She adored watching Chloe, the feral, passionate expressions that formed on her face, as she thrust two fingers inside her, with thumb working in wild circles against the clit. She leaned in and hissed, "You like that? You like me fucking you, Che? Right here, where anyone could walk in?" She couldn't believe the words coming from her mouth! Like the previous night, it as if she were possessed by someone completely different.

 _God! I've got years of pent up lust to work through. Poor Chloe. Or lucky her!_

Her words only inflamed her girlfriend to further heights. Chloe gave a loud moan, before clamping her lips and teeth down hard on her neck. Max saw stars, the sensation of pain and pleasure mingling together so deliciously. She felt herself being claimed and desperately wanted more.

"Sc...scratch me, Che. Hard!" Max shivered in delight as blue fingernails crept slowly over her shoulder, drawing out the tension, until they suddenly raked hard over her back. The intensity of feeling it produced was absolutely amazing.

Things grew muddled as the both of them became completely lost in their frenetic mutual fingering. Max glanced up, opening one eye, and smirked as she took note of how much slower the rest of the world appeared to be moving around them; she could easily track each and every individual droplet of water leaving the showerhead and splashing against the tile, as if a minute from their perspective were passing in mere seconds in the outside world. She would have thought to stop whatever was going on, were it not for the fact that Chloe seemed completely unaffected; instead, Max focused on enjoying whatever the hell was happened, especially if it let them get in a 'quickie', while simultaneously giving the word a new literal meaning.

Neither of them lasted long, and as Max felt the surging plateau of her release approaching, Chloe's eyes flew open. She snarled against her ear, "Look at me. Look at me!" She did as instructed, the domineering tone of the command sending her over the edge. As her eyes locked onto Chloe's, Max found herself drowning in them, two perfect orbs of blue, white and black. She understood why Chloe wanted this, demanded it; the intense intimacy was incredible. All consuming. That smoldering look of abandon in her lover's eyes, the same look she could feel reflected on her own face, as the two of them gave in at once to the rush that was drowning them.

The proper flow of time finally reasserted itself; they barely had more than a minute to bask in the shared glow of their post-cotial bliss when the hot water ran out. The two of them shrieked in shock, washing up quickly before they ran out together, laughing. They shared one last kiss before getting dressed, striking camp, and driving away, back to Arcadia Bay, amazed that they managed to get away with it.

* * *

"Chloe, what the hell is going on with your phone?" Max asked, unable to ignore the fifteen seconds worth of dings , beeps and indicator tones that started playing the moment they came back into cell phone range.

"Wow. Dunno. I mean, I'm a pretty popular playah 'round town, but this seems like a lot, even for me. Uh...should probably check it out. Oh hey, I know, you wanna check it for me?"

"Oooooh. We're taking our relationship to the next level, huh?" Max teased. She grabbed the phone, shooting the other girl a dreamy smile, before turning to the device in her hands. "Uh...I need your lock code, babe. I don't exactly feel like hacking your phone."

"Sure thang. It's oh-nine, two-one."

Max felt a tender squeeze constricting her heart. "Awwww! O-M-G. Your phone unlock is my birthday? For cereal?"

Chloe just gave a knowing smile. "You were always on my mind, Maxima."

Max flushed with effuse joy, before pausing. "Wait a second. It was always that, right? It's not like you changed it last night, in anticipation of a moment like this or anything?"

"What!?" Chloe exclaimed. "Now why would you say that, Ms. Paranoid Superspy? I'd never do something _that_ sneaky. Certainly not between three and three-oh-five in the morning, when someone was drooling adorably on my shoulder."

Shaking with laughter, she leaned in against Chloe's side, "You are so weird."

"Yeah, but you love my weirdness, babydoll."

'Yeah-ha. I do. I really do." With that, Max focused on combing through the new text messages, grooving on the absolute trust her girlfriend was demonstrating at the moment. Most of them were personal messages from Justin, her skater-boi bro-friend, but there were a few Facebook notices from the local in-town and Blackwell-based community groups.

 _Wow. Given how much you hate Arcadia Bay, you sure have your finger on its pulse..._

As Max skimmed over the links and headlines scrolling by, her jaw dropped.

"H-holy shit!" she gasped.

"What? What?! Don't keep me in suspense!" Chloe demanded, trying her best to keep her eyes ahead on the road.

"You're not gonna believe this...but..but Nathan Prescott and...oh Jesus! Mark Jefferson!? I can't believe it! I can't fucking believe it, this _can't_ be real. There's no way! And...and uh-oh...you're gonna wanna stop.

" _What?!_ Arrrrg! Shit...woman, you are as infuriating as you are sexy. I'm pulling over..." Chloe nearly skidded to a halt, barely checking herself to park the truck on the side of the road. Max swiftly shoved the phone into her hands, so she could read for herself.

Chloe frowned; her expression turned incredulous over the span of thirty seconds.

"H-holy...I can't. I hella can't believe it! Nathan _and_ Jefferson were doing this shit? Kidnapping, and rape? Murder?!...oh my g-...oh fuck! Oh fucking...I knew it! I knew he was into some hella deep shit, but I didn't ever think! Oh!" Chloe leaned back, running a hand through her hair, shaking her head. "No. No...it's obvious now. I mean...he dosed me and...and he…" she swallowed hard, not wanting to continue; she bowed her head and pounded hard against the steering wheel, before looking back up and saying,. "But he killed Stella, for real! We already figured out that much!"

"Wow. I feel so...so dirty now!" Max winced, scrubbing at her arms. "I totally loved that asshole's work. Jefferson, I mean. Just the other night, I was mooning over how much I was dying, not able to take his class at Blackwell. And now I find out he's some sort of sicko psychopath? Did you read the part where they were taking girls to some old fallout bunker the Prescotts owned?! Tying them up and taking pictures, the really twisted bondage stuff..."

"I know right? I know! Shit...why...why now?" Chloe asked.

Max snagged the phone back and continued reading on her own. "Says that...at least Nathan said that he couldn't take the guilt anymore. He didn't mean to kill Stella, he fucked up the dose. Ugh, what a moron. Jeez. How hard is it to figure out the how much Ketamine...?" She paused, realizing that most normal teenagers weren't trained in how to calculate the appropriate doses for the top five leading tranquilizing agents. That, and how callow her words sounded, given someone died...

Max rubbed the back of her neck. "At least he confessed to drugging Kate, too. I mean...maybe Stella dying was the start, put him under all the pressure, and the shit with Kate just broke him. But...but it's really weird though, that Nathan said he was going to turn himself in, and Jefferson just went along with it…uh…huh. Just...seems totally weird."

Something sounded off about the story. But she couldn't put her finger on what or why.

"Dunno, babydoll. I don't want to suggest anything nice about Pres-shit, but we saw the picture he made after killing Stella." Chloe said. "Clearly, it fucked him up, broke him inside. Explains why he was such a fucking timebomb on Monday, too. Guilt is a hell of a motivator." Suddenly switching gears, she shook her head in disgust, stabbing a finger at her phone screen. "Oh look. Now everyone in the world is acting like Kate's best friend, like she's the most popular girl in school. All 'We love you Katie!' and 'We always knew you were innocent!'. Jesus fuck, what a bunch of hypocrites."

Max brightened up. "Still, good for Kate! She totally deserves to be cleared. I hope she rubs it in everyone's faces, but...something tells me she's too kind and decent to do anything but forgive everyone." Max pursed her lips together and quickly twitched them back and forth.

"I know that face." Chloe said. "You're still hung up on something."

"I am! I...well." Max blushed, sheepishly. "This is gonna sound crazy, but I just have the weirdest feeling like _we_ should've solved this, somehow. We were close. I mean, we knew Nathan was sick in the head, we figured he was involved in the whole thing with Kate and the video, right? I can't believe it all just...solved itself."

Chloe tilted her head, "Uhhh...cutie? We're a few hours away from living on the run forever. There was no way we were somehow going to magically wrap it all up before week's end, or something cheesy like that." Regardless, Max continued to grumble until Chloe leaned in and kissed her cheek.

"We're awesome, but the world _totally_ doesn't revolve around us. Life solved its own shit without our help. Moral arc of the universe bending towards justice, and all that shit. What's so weird about that? Disappointing, yeah, but think how exhausting it would be if we were somehow the two most important people in the whole town."

"I...I guess you're right." Max reluctantly agreed. "Anyhow, it looks like you've got a voicemail here. You should probably be the one to listen to it, whatever it is." She handed the phone back.

Chloe snorted. "Probably the Step-dick. Oh...no. Not his numb...oh shit! I know these digits. Fucking police. Let's see what they wanna jump up my ass about now." She paused, listening for a minute to the message.

Giving another disgusted snort, Chloe said, "Yeah, it's the po-po. Nathan also confessed about what he did….uh...about when he drugged me and..." She took a deep, angry breath and continued, "Anyhow, they want me to come in and make a statement." She shook her head, and deleted the voice-mail. "We sure as shit won't be paying them a visit. Just...funny, not sure why they didn't say anything about it in the paper."

Max blinked. A cold, burning shiver ran down her throat, and into her sternum. If Nathan told the cops about her, about saving Chloe. About telling him she was a federal agent...

"Ummm - uhh. It's 'cause the law gives you protection. They can't name you without your consent, I think. As for going to talk to them: n-normally, I'd say you should. But you're probably right. Just...sad. He really needs to be brought to justice, and every person's testimony against him helps."

"Babe, he confessed. They don't _need_ jack, they're just trying to find a way to help him and his family weasel out of it, by making any witnesses look bad. Fuck that noise. They can talk to Kate, and she'll be someone they can't slime. Me...you know me. And the cops, and how they hate me. I'll just weaken the case. They'll talk about how I did shit to deserve it. It's why I never went to them in the first place, I knew it was gonna be useless. They can go to hell and fuck themselves sideways! Besides, we don't need to put you at risk. We're gone tonight, and that's that." She stared out hard through the windshield and muttered. "All that shit with him? In the fucking past now."

Max didn't like it on principle, but principle made it more likely she'd get nailed by the Feds.

"Alright then."

Chloe's somber expression lightened. "Alright then." She repeated, before blinking at a new message that suddenly popped up. "Huh. _There's_ the Step-shit now...asking me where I am. Wow, asshole usually just waits until I get home and chews me out for not checking in, like I'm not a legal adult or something." She quickly pecked out a response. "Nun yo bidness! Back home later today, I guess."

"He...he's probably just concerned, you know, since you didn't come home last night?"

Chloe shrugged, and blew a stream of air upwards, ruffling her bangs. "Fuck that shit, he never cared before. The day David Madsen gives an honest damn about me is the day hell freezes over. Probably just...looking for an excuse to grind my gears. Like maybe one of the cops he pathetically hangs around with like a puppy let it slip...y'know, the shit about me and Nathan? So he'll rub it in my face, like it's because I did something wrong."

They drove on ahead, while Max continued to read out more details about last night's sudden turn of events. Despite her best efforts, she couldn't fully shake the feeling that she missed out on something that she was otherwise somehow destined for.

* * *

It was mid-afternoon by the time they pulled up into the driveway. Max started to move to open the passenger door when she stopped, looked over her shoulder, and gave Chloe a knowing look.

"Uhhh...Che?"

"Yeah, babe?" Chloe said, a shit eating grin smugly perched on her lips, as if knowing exactly what the question was.

Max glanced over, and took note of Joyce's car in the driveway. "What do we tell your Mom? Like, anything? Do we play it cool and platonic in front of her, or...?"

She didn't get any further before Chloe leaned in, quickly pinned her back against the seat, and kissed her, briefly but with a passionate ferocity. One kiss turned into several smaller ones, until they were both giddy and giggling.

"Mmmmm...okay, just so we're clear, we're not gonna go and make out right in front of Joyce, are we?" Max asked with a little slur in her voice.

"Ha ha! That would be kinda awesome but...no. I mean, we don't have to flaunt it, but we're not gonna hide it, either. I am hella happy...more than I've been in years. Maybe ever. I'm not gonna hide my love for you, Max. Not ever. We're gonna walk in that door, and we can hold hands, and be, you know...ourselves. Just who we are, right now."

"Sounds good." Max breathed softly in agreement, before hopping out of the truck. The two of them walked towards the front door, hand in hand.

 _Well. This is it. Last time I'll ever see this place again. Except...except I said that so many times to myself in the past, and look what happened. I got away! I got to see Chloe again and...and I got her! I_ got _Chloe! So..._

She still felt like shit. As if she were taking something valuable and precious away from the woman who'd been like a second mother to her. As much as she wanted to brush her concerns and guilt aside, remind herself that Chloe was a grown woman now, it did little to ameliorate the growing conflict in her heart.

"Hey, we're back." Chloe announced with little fanfare. Joyce poked her head out from the kitchen, looking vaguely relieved.

"There you are, and what's...oh! Max? Sweetie, why are you still here? Oh, that came out wrong, I mean, I'm glad you're still with us, but I thought you had a train to catch.

 _Oh. Oh fuck, I totes forgot that whole line. Wait, okay, I got this, I'll just tell her..._

"You know Amtrak." Chloe quickly cut in. "Train crap, and it would have totally screwed up her connections. And she didn't feel like taking the bus, so we kind of hung out in Portland. I wanted to head back here to change my clothes and pick up a few things, because we're going back out soon. Max'll try her luck again with the train and um...actually? I've been doing a lot of thinking - uh - that is...I think it's about time I look into getting out of the house. 'Cause...I have a tiny bit of money saved up, and I know a couple of people in Portland with a couch I can crash on. Got to thinking about find a job and actually fucking getting on with my life. Pretty sure you and Step-di...ah...David...don't need me hanging around anymore. So I'm just gonna pack up a few things, spend a couple of days in the city, see if I can't get established."

 _Wow. I hope you didn't just oversell it there, Che!_

Joyce narrowed her eyes. "Really. Just like that? All of the sudden?"

Chloe bit down on her bottom lip, reaching up to pull off her beanie, and glanced down. "Yeah. I know, right? Sounds crazy, sounds sudden, but I can see now...I'm not doing myself any favors sticking around. I mean..." she laughed lightly. "We know what happened to Rachel. Mystery solved. Chloe was a fucking idiot."

Joyce softened a touch, leaned in and kissed her daughter on the forehead. "You are not an idiot, Chloe. You're...you're a passionate woman, who put her faith in the wrong person, for the right reasons."

Giving a tiny smile despite herself, Chloe shuffled back. "Yeah. Well...gonna run up and pack a little." She then favored Max with a glowing, radiant smile. "Back soon!"

Max thought to follow her girlfriend up the stairs, even turned to do so, but stopped suddenly.

 _Chloe doesn't need me to be her puppy dog. And...and we're gonna be together practically every minute once we're on the run. She deserves a few minutes to herself. I mean, this is kind of a big fucking deal. Grabbing what she can, before we take off. And leave her mom.._

She glanced at the older woman, a stab of guilt puncturing her heart anew.

Joyce crossed her arms, the side of her mouth pulling up. "Don't think I don't know what's going on, Max Caulfield."

Flushing furiously, the heat rising up to her cheeks despite herself, she stammered. "I - ah - I don't know what you're talking about, Joyce."

 _Oh my fucking God, what happened to all those years of training, Max? Shit...I always did suck at lying in front of Chloe's mom._

The older woman chuckled deep in the back of her throat. "I may not have seen much of my daughter over the past week, but I know a honest change when I see it. Not once since she turned eighteen have I been able to get that girl to consider moving out on her own, start a life for herself. And then here you are, back after five years, and Chloe suddenly sees the light and talks about getting her damn shit together..." She shook her head. "Clearly you've made a impression on her." She quirked up a brow. "A _major_ impression."

"G-great. Glad to hear it. I mean, I don't really know what I did..." Max mumbled

Joyce smirked. "Aw honey...let me be blunt: I happened to peek out a window right before I came into the kitchen, and saw the two of you in her truck..."

Max was never more embarrassed in her life; her cheeks felt like they were burning hot enough to look beet red. She wasn't sure what to say; not that she felt ashamed of her relationship with Chloe...

 _But getting caught making out with her daughter like that...yikes!_

Max covered up her face with her palm, and gave a nervous laugh. "Uh. Oh...God. Um...hah. Heh. S-sorry Joyce. I guess we got a little caught up in the moment, and..."

The older woman reached out, patting her shoulder reassuringly. "Max, Max...oh my gosh, just look at you. I'm not upset, not really. I mean, yes, I'm...I'm a bit surprised. I mean, near the end, I started to suspect Chloe had feelings for Rachel that were more than just platonic. But it's not like I knew if it was anything more than a phase. Well, I suppose now that it isn't." She smirked softly.

"But honest, whatever is going on between the both of you? Granted, if it were anyone else, I'd probably just roll my eyes and say to myself 'Good lord, that daughter of mine is going to get her heart broken. _Again.'_ But the two of you always had a special bond, and I'd be lying if I said there weren't times when she was involved with Rachel where I thought..."

Joyce suddenly paused for a moment, blinked, and then narrowed her eyes. It was enough to prompt a curious prod from Max.

"Where - uh - where you thought...?"

"What? Oh. Sorry, dear. I just...where I thought that it was a damn shame that you weren't still in her life. It always struck me that Rachel was just a poor substitute, filling the gap caused by your absence. It's...it's better this way. The two of you together, and her out of Chloe's life, hopefully forever." She paused again, and then gave an empathic nod. "Yes. If she never sees that damn serpent passing herself off for a human being again, I'll be the happiest mother in Arcadia Bay." Joyce then smiled. "And she looks so much happier with you, that's for sure."

Max swallowed down the hard lump forming in her throat, blinking away the stinging sensation in her eyes. "Th-thanks." she said, her voice breaking softly. "But...but you hardly even know me now. Five years...'s a long time."

After giving her a hug, Joyce continued, "You're not wrong. But I can see you're still the same decent girl at heart. The same kind soul who always managed to bring out the best in my daughter." She took a deep breath in through her nose, her expression taking on a much more vulnerable aspect. "Just...answer a question for me? Is this for real? Her wanting to go off to Portland, and try and make a new start for herself? Or is she just sort of...chasing after you on the rebound?" She grimaced, clearly not liking how that came out. "Sorry, that must sound terrible. I don't mean to imply you're leading her on, but I just have this terrible notion that Chloe's got it in her head to follow after you, wherever you're headed off to from here. Half-cocked and not thinking of the consequences."

A spiderweb of cracks started to skitter through Max's heart, and it was only through sheer force of will that she held it together, doing her best to keep from showing her true reactions to Joyce's words.

 _Sh-shit! She was always so amazing at figuring things out! I mean...I mean I'm pretty sure she hasn't figured_ everything _out, but...!_

"Like I said, if it were anyone else, three days in and suddenly swept up in a relationship with her, I wouldn't believe it. But I can see how it might work, between the two of you. Like a puzzle finally getting the last piece fitted. Anyhow, you're going off to college soon, and I just...don't want Chloe running off, without a real plan in her head, is all. For her own sake. Do you get what I'm saying, Max?"

It was as if two teams of horses were hitched up to Max's heart, and trying to pull in opposite directions. On one hand, she knew, deep down to the core of her being, that she couldn't run off without Chloe at her side. The two of them were meant to be, and even if Max could somehow leave her behind...not only would it break her heart, but Chloe _would_ chase after her, for real. Or worse yet, it would push Chloe, already in a vulnerable state, off the edge; she might just hate the world forever.

But how the hell was she supposed to lie to Joyce? Tell her that everything was just fine? That no, she wasn't planning on effectively eloping with her daughter, and the two of them would be on the run from the federal government, possibly for the rest of their lives?

Under normal circumstances, and for regular people, it would have been an impossible task. The first time Max tried, she could see it in Joyce's eyes; she'd failed immediately.

But she could try again.

And again.

And again. Navigating through the rocky shoals of human interaction. Reading Joyce's body language, keying in to her expectations, and getting increasing control of her own bodily cues. Combined with all of her professional training, and her time manipulation power, she had as many chances to get this right as she needed, like one of those ridiculous quick-reaction minigames.

Still, it took her eight tries, before she felt she managed to fabricate an explanation that would fool even Joyce. For Max to numb her mind, and still her heart. Build a convincing facade, to the point where she herself almost believed it.

Putting on her pretty smile, a thing made of deception, she gave a gentle shake of her head, and said, "I know it looks crazy, sounds crazy. I can hardly believe it myself. I didn't come back to visit Chloe, intending to...to fall for her but." Her voice lowered a touch. "But I think, in the back of my mind, maybe part of me was hoping for something. Like, I always suspected that if we could just see each other again, five years would be nothing, and we'd just click. And Oh God, I'm so happy we did. But...ah..."

She reached out, gently gripping Joyce's upper arm. "You have every right to be concerned, you know? If things are somehow going too fast, or if Chloe is acting on impulse. Because I talked to her about it myself, late yesterday, when she told first told me her plan. I made it clear to her that while I want us to be together, I had to focus on college too, you know? I wasn't about to totally change my life for her. I could easily make it a long distance thing, starting out, and I'd be lying if I said I wasn't considering looking at some schools in the Northwest now, to make it easier. But yeah, I told her that if she was going to change her life, she needed do it for herself first, and me second."

 _Don't vomit, don't cry, don't freak. No matter how badly you want to do all three at once, right this second._

Encouraged by the smile slowly blooming over Joyce's lips, Max continued, "I really think she means it, Joyce. She and I? We've had some really amazing talks. About what she's been through, and the shit with Rachel, and how hard it's been since William...since he died. There's been this block holding her back, you know? Like a wall that had to be climbed, but only she could do it. And - uh - you know..." She bowed her head for a moment, and then glanced up, trying to cultivate as much determination in her eyes and face as possible. "I think she's ready. I think she's ready to meet the challenge. Climb up and move ahead. And I promise you, Joyce. I'm gonna be doing everything I can to support her." She smiled, wiping tears from her eyes; at least she could tell herself the last part was the God's honest truth.

Hell, there was a ring of truth to all of it; that was the most insidious part.

When Joyce reached out to hug her tightly, Max could feel the bile rising up in her throat from her betrayal.

 _And when she finds out that her daughter is gone, and I took her away...she will never forgive me. Never!_

"Thank you, Max. Oh, Lord...thank you.

 _Please...please don't thank me._

She hugged back, and then gently disengaged herself. "Sorry Joyce...I know we're having a moment here, but...uh." She forced an embarrassed smile and stage-whispered, "I gotta pee!"

Joyce laughed merrily, nodding as she wiped away tears of her own. Max strode quickly into the bathroom, closed the door and locked it behind her.

She collapsed onto the floor, and curled up into a fetal ball.

For the first three minutes, she was convinced she was going to vomit. She buried her face against the crook of her arm, nearly suffocating herself as she desperately worked to suppress her sobs, shaking from the effort. But when it occurred to her that she technically had all the time in the world, she let her tears flow. She screamed and she howled, and broke things. She gave herself the luxury of letting everything out, judiciously rewinding back through time whenever she attracted too much attention. And when she was finally spent, she did her best to clean her face up and get ready to walk out the door. To put the mask back on and pretend that all was well.

Except she suddenly realized that after an objective hour of freaking out, she really did have to pee.

It felt good to laugh after all of that, even if it was only at herself.

And at the insanity of life in general.

* * *

 _ **A/N:**_ Hey Swanketteers, it's Black Swan Friday! Lyta says "I made good words!" and NQW says "Here's how you make them better!"

So we're back to the Chloe and Max show...a couple chapters of...well I wouldn't call it fluff, but like the title suggests, tying up loose ends as they get ready to hit the road. Of course, things never go the way we intend them. Speaking of which, it's hard to believe but I am close to writing the last chapter of the entire series. Just...weird to think that the end is in sight. I mean, I suppose things could change during the editing process, and I decide to pad out a little bit, but right now, it looks like we are going to end with an even 40 chapters, and a bit more than 250,000 words. I think that's probably a good target.

I did have fun writing this one, even though it was a bear to revise and polish - extra thanks to NQW for that! But I grooved on the notion that The Golden Couple were _not_ the ones to bring Jefferson down, but Max, ever sensitive to fate and multiple timelines as she seems to have become, keeps insisting that it should have been her and Chloe, somehow...

Oh! I almost forgot! Tumblr fan **rainchitect** brought an awesome short video to my attention. Look up Glow Production and their video The Last Tree. The female lead so looks like what I imagine Black Swan Max would be like.

Anyhow, I hope everyone has a great weekend...if you're in the US, then I guess have a good Memorial Day as well!


	34. Angels Of Arcadia Bay

Chloe lay on her still-unmade bed, as she gazed across the room that had sheltered her and served as a sanctum her entire life. She was done packing already, not that there was much she needed to take with her: a few sets of clothes, her laptop and the fat pile of cash made up the majority. She was going to leave her phone behind, per Max's instructions, and other than some toiletries and a few personal knick knacks - including and especially a collection of photos - Chloe would be leaving her room almost exactly the way she found it.

Part of her was reluctant to leave, to the point of melancholy; she found it both confusing and annoying.

 _I suppose I_ did _invest a lot of myself in this place. A hella ton of hours went into decorating it, putting my unique mark on it..._

Maybe on the surface, it was just Christmas lights, and graffiti, and a bunch of posters, but her room was so much more than the mere sum of its parts. It was her private corner of the world, her queendom. A retreat from the fucking stupidity of the world: its meanness and corruption. No matter what was going on in her life, no matter how bad she was feeling, she could always retreat to this place, and feel a bit more at peace with herself and her life.

 _Assuming my asshole step-father wasn't just barging in..._

And that, in an odd way, may have been the problem as well.

Chloe pushed herself up into a halfway sitting position, leaning back on her elbows as she took a second look around; sure, her room was comfortable, and of course she had good memories built up in it. But some of them, mostly the ones involving Rachel, turned bitter with time, although it was funny how a new love took the sting out of an old heartbreak. But as much as she could retreat when the going got rough, that was also what was holding her back.

 _Spent so much time here cooped up, especially right after Dad died, that I never challenged myself to fucking do better, to move on._

It wasn't like she was blaming her room for the path that life took over the past five years, but it was a symptom of the problem at large. It gave her the excuse to stop growing, to shut out the rest of the world and deny access to herself to all but a privileged few.

 _Can't believe I never saw that until now. Until this week. When Max came back and finally opened my eyes._

Chloe knew that once she stepped out the door, it'd be for the last time. She was almost certain she'd never see her room again. The memories though, she'd carry forever, and that was important. But it didn't change the fact that she was giving up something that, not so long ago, meant the world to her. The only thing that seemed real, the only thing that was distinctly 'hers'.

But she also realized that outside that door was Max.

Chloe smiled, falling backward as she hugged herself. They were a couple now! She couldn't believe her amazing fortune, how it all felt like destiny finally fulfilling itself. And given Max's powers, she was definitely willing to accept the existence of something like fate.

 _Max is this room, now. She's my sanctuary._

There was no way of knowing what the world had in store for the both of them. Right now, in this utter calm before the storm, Chloe couldn't help but feel upbeat and optimistic, two things that were very much lacking in her life until now. She tried her best to temper her outlook, to accept that there were going to be hard times ahead. Scary times, maybe even desperate ones. But none of that mattered. She'd do anything for her best friend and now lover. Her loyalty to Max was plain to see, even before this week: who else would have taken her in, listened to her crazy stories with a vaguely open mind, offer comfort and support?

 _...granted, I kinda fucking lost my way for a little while...so glad she forgave me!_

But now that loyalty was absolutely unshakable. This wasn't some newly-spawned puppy love crush, nor was it like the needy relationship she had with Rachel, one born out of her desperate desire to soothe the terror of being alone. What existed now between the two of them was the ultimate culmination of years of friendship and sisterhood, taken to its logical conclusion.

Together, they could face anything. They were greater than the sum of the two of them apart.

Chloe took one last, loving trip down memory lane, before grabbing her oversized dufflebag. As she stepped out, she couldn't help but pause, and look back over her shoulder one last time, before closing the door.

"Well," she whispered to herself. "This chapter's finished. Time to get a move on."

After making a quick Google search to figure out how to do it, she'd programmed an email with a delayed send date; in two days time, it would reach her mother, and tell her the truth. Or at least as much as was safe to reveal.

After clomping down the stairs and briefly popping outside to toss the bag into her truck, she meandered into the living room, where she found her mother sitting on the couch and reading through a magazine. Her girlfriend was nowhere in sight, and after poking her head through the garage and out into the yard, Joyce finally answered, "She's in the bathroom, although I must admit it _is_ adorable, the way you're immediately looking for her."

Chloe blinked. She knew that tone of voice, the one Joyce couldn't help but use when she knew far more than she was letting on.

"Uh...not quite sure what that's supposed to mean," she said in a quiet monotone, trying her best to play it cool, as she drifted into the kitchen, where she opened up the fridge and leaned in, with the notion of grabbing herself a soda.

"I know about you and Max being a couple now. Or whatever it is you kids call it these days."

Chloe jerked up, gently banging the back of her head on the inside of the refrigerator. She swore under her breath. Carefully backing out and closing the door, she made a show of slowly cracking open the can, taking a measured sip, and then calmly stating, "Well. Yeah. We are. Not that I need your approval or anything. I'm an adult now and..."

"Oh Chloe, for God's sake," Joyce interrupted with a light sigh. "Stand down. Believe it or not, I'm happy for you both. I mean, part of me worries a bit, naturally. I'd be a lot less than thrilled if Max were some strange girl you'd just met on Monday, and not your best friend since you were five. As long as the two of you are happy, anything beyond that is none of my business. Since you _are_ an adult, after all."

Chloe nodded, taking another sip. "So how'd you find out? Max say something?"

"Ohhh, she didn't have to. Granted, I probably wouldn't have suspected anything was going on between you two, but I just happened to look out the window at the right time. When you two were were all-but-attacking each other in the truck." Joyce smirked. "And then Max and I had a talk about what was going on."

Chloe fought to keep from spitting up what was going down her throat.

* * *

When Max finally felt up to leaving the bathroom, she came across Chloe, hacking and coughing. She ran up and asked in a sympathetic tone, "Oh sweetie! Are you alright?" Her girlfriend nodded, though she still sputtered a bit.

"Just told her you knew, huh?" Max asked, quickly putting the pieces together.

"Something like that." Joyce crossed her arms, smiling with kind bemusement.

Quickly regaining control of herself, Chloe slammed back the rest of her drink, making a point to loudly belch before turning to her. "Okay babes. I'm all packed, so, uh..."

Max couldn't help but see the blunette's eyes flick over towards her mother. She could only imagine what was going on in her head right this moment. That the full weight of this momentous decision was only just now hitting her.

"...so yeah. We should probably hit the road. You know. No point in hanging around..."

"So soon? You girls sure you don't want a late lunch before you go?" Joyce inquired. She took a breath, and then shook her head. "Ah...never mind. I'm sorry, Max. What was I thinking, I'm sure you've got a schedule to stick to and..."

"Nothing! I mean...nothing that's carved in stone. I've got general access tickets for the train, so they're good for the next few weeks, actually. There's no reason why we couldn't stay for a little while. I mean, we hardly got to talk that much, Joyce and..."

'While I'm sure you'll see Chloe again soon...' was the casual lie she was about to drop. Max found herself completely unable to go through with it. Torn between the tactical desire to play it safe, to not give Joyce any more opportunities to find out that something was going on behind the scenes, and the renewed sense of guilt welling up in her heart.

Chloe took her hand, and gave it a comforting squeeze. She looked towards her, swallowed, and in an uncertain tone asked, "Are you sure?"

Max could only nod in enthusiastic silence.

Joyce blinked, clearly not expecting the change in track, but greatly pleased all the same. "Oh! Well that's just wonderful. I'm so happy we'll have a little more time to spend together. Okay then. Why don't you two lovebirds have a seat at the table."

Max glanced over, taking note of the sour look on Chloe's face, turning away from her mother and sticking her tongue out. She hit her on the side of the arm in response, as if the say 'She's talking about _us_ , doofus.' Appropriately chastised, the blunette gave her a goofy grin, and then leaned in for a quick kiss.

They sat close together, side by side, smiling at each other the whole time. Joyce came up, and said, "Alright, Max. What would you like to eat?"

She wasn't sure what possessed her, what gleeful, naughty impulse took hold, but Max found herself reaching under the table to grab just above Chloe's knee, looking up sweetly at the older woman, and answering with a nervous laugh. "Your daughter."

She rewound it back, of course. But Max desperately wished she could have taken a video of the look on both their faces. Instead, she settled for a grilled cheese with bacon, and the loud guffaw she managed to elicit from Chloe after whispering the details of the brief exchange against her ear.

"My goodness, look at the way you two are giggling like a pack of hyenas." Joyce remarked, returning to the table with their food.

"Oh! You know. We're talking boy bands, and hairstyles and...stuff" Max started, before breaking down into laughter again.

They spent the next two or three hours keeping Joyce company. Max did her best to gently deflect the conversation away from her past, while simultaneously keeping any answers about her future as vague and circumspect as possible. She was happy to let Chloe take the lead, as she seemed far more comfortable lying to her mother about her future plans, what sort of jobs she was already looking into, and who she would be crashing with while she got herself settled in Portland.

 _God. She's so good at lying to her own Mom. Way better than I could ever do it. Then again, she's probably had a lot more practice. Maybe she doesn't appreciate yet, how she might never see Joyce again...for reals._

All the same, Chloe and Joyce were laughing. They were joking, and enjoying each others company, in ways that Max could only imagine the two of them hadn't experience in years. That was the most important thing, as far as Max was concerned; if this was Joyce's last chance to see Chloe, she wanted those memories to be as pleasant as possible. Something to treasure for years down the line.

Max gripped Chloe's hand tightly for the rest of the visit, swallowing back the bittersweet lump in her throat, simultaneously regretting and elated by her decision to give Chloe and Joyce more time together. She found herself greeting the end of their lunch together with both terror and relief, as Chloe rose to start clearing the table.

Joyce deadpanned, "My God. Who are you, and what have you done with my daughter?"

Chloe laughed, "What, I can't be nice now? C'mon, you cooked us food, least I can do is clean up before I run off into the big wide world and start tricking people into believing I'm an actual adult."

More hugs were exchanged, and promises to call as soon as Chloe settled in. For Max not to be a stranger. For the two of them to come visit in the near future. All promises that would have be broken. Confidences that would ultimately need to be betrayed.

 _Oh God. Please...please let's get out of here. Now._

As the two of them opened the door to head off, the sun now having set, and twilight fully draping the Bay, they nearly ran headlong into David.

All three of them blinked; a heavy, nervous tension rapidly descended. Max was uncertain what to say, or who should speak first. She wasn't sure why, but this was a complication she felt needed to be avoided. But before she could think to rewind back, he smiled. He actually smiled, as if relieved, and leaned in to hug a supremely startled Chloe.

"Chloe!" he called out. "I'm...I'm really glad. Glad to see you. Uh. One of the cops I know...he told me about what was going on with Nathan Prescott, that you were one of the people he...that he violated. He said he probably shouldn't have mentioned it, but since we're family..." He blinked, suddenly aware of what he was doing, and backed off. "Is it true? Did he try to hurt you?"

Max glanced over to Chloe. It was clear she was perplexed, torn between the desire to deliver one of her usual acid remarks, and the need to make her final departing moments pleasant. She stiffened, then shook her head, dismissing David's uncharacteristic show of emotion with a wave of her hand. She took a deep breath and murmured low, "Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine now. It was a bad situation, but it didn't bite my ass off."

Despite her rather flip explanation, Max could see the truth written all over her face. She was seething, obviously still upset over what happened, but doing her best to keep it hidden away from the world. Max knew enough about police procedure to realize that outing Chloe as a potential rape victim to her stepfather was a shitty, possibly illegal thing to do. She only hoped it was done out of honest kindness, and not out of some sick desire for the police to rub salt into Chloe's wounds.

"So where are you two...I mean...are you heading off somewhere?" David asked. His question started with his normal, interrogating tone, until it made a sudden veer towards the almost-pleasant.

"These two are off to Portland. Again." Joyce interrupted. "Max missed her train, or bus, and is making another go at it. Chloe, it seems, has decided to start taking some responsibility for her life, and is looking to move to the big city, so she'll be gone for a few days while she's getting herself set up." It was clear that Joyce was shining with pride, despite the casual tone of her voice, her arms crossed together in front of her.

David wore a confused, almost flummoxed expression on his face. It was a good few seconds before he recovered, and said, "Oh! Wow. Uh. Great. Great, Chloe! Knew you could do it. So this means we should celebrate. Right? Do you need to go right now? We could have dinner…?" He gazed over towards Max in particular, and added, "I was hoping we could spend some more time together."

"We ate, but thanks." Chloe interrupted. "We really need to get the jump on things...stuck around a lot longer than planned. Anyhow, I'll be in touch, okay? Bye!" Max felt herself being pulled along, as the pair of them quickly dashed over to the truck and jumped inside.

This isn't how Max wanted the end to come; a clipped, rushed farewell. She glanced over at the curiously longing expression in David's eyes, peered at him via the side mirror on the truck.

"Oh God...let's gun it, BatMax. Sorry about the step...eh. Whatever. Probably all tingly and excited, thinking he was gonna get another chance to hang with his Battle Buddy-for-Life or something. I mean, geeze, did you see him? Acting like he's actually happy to see me or something? Shit. It took him finding out what...what happened with me and Nathan, for him to act like he gives a damn."

"Y-yeah. I guess. And you know, maybe David really _is_ glad to know Nathan didn't kill you, like he did with Stella."

Chloe snorted, and shrugged her shoulders. "Yeah, well. Whatever. I'm sure in a month, he'll turn my room into his new man cave. He's...he's welcome to it." she said, muttering out the last part softly, as if sputtering to a halt. "C'mon baby, let's not drag this shit out."

Max could see it in Chloe's eyes. The dawning realization. She reached over, taking her hand and bringing it up to her lips, kissing the fingertips as the two of them drove away from the house the two of them spent most of their lives growing up in.

As the truck pulled onto the street and sped away into the distance, Joyce turned to David and said, "Well, are you back long enough for dinner? I figured they'd have you putting in overtime tonight for that dance at Blackwell."

David blinked. He didn't respond at first, as he focused intently on the truck until it finally disappeared in the distance. Without answering the question, he turned into the house, and muttered off-handedly, "'Scuze me...I need to make a phone call."

* * *

Max sighed softly, staring out the window and marveling how much had changed in a single day. There was still melancholy about what she was leaving behind, and anxiety about the future that awaited her, but now, she wasn't alone. Although, under normal tactical considerations, allowing Chloe to join her was a huge mistake.

 _But this is anything but normal. This is Chloe. This is the girl...the woman, I've been fighting for almost my whole life. One way or the other. She gave me hope, during my worst years at Zion Control. That someday, I'd see her again._

Chloe Price was her strength, her beacon in the night. Her lighthouse on rocky shores. Everything yesterday that was screaming at her, warning her that she was making the biggest mistake in her life by walking away from her now hummed in contentment. There were no guarantees of a bright and rosy future together. But there was hope, where hope was previously lacking.

As long as the two of them were together, there would always be hope. Heaven and Hell could rise against them both, and Max would gladly face the fight, with her true love at her side.

Chloe glanced over at her sideways, and laughed low. "Look at you."

"I can't, silly. Why...what do you see?"

"The smile on your face. The way you're lookin' at me. It's hella-dorbs. Gal could really fall for someone who looked at her like that."

"Yeah well, don't get any ideas. I already have a girlfriend." Max giggled.

"Oh yeah? Cool. I bet she's pretty awesome though. Awesome enough to be worthy of you."

Max leaned in quick, to give Chloe's earlobe a quick peck. "You have no idea."

Max turned back to glance out as they passed through downtown Arcadia Bay, one last time...

 _Oh shit!_

"Chloe! Chloe, please stop! Right here." Max called out.

"What. Where?! Shit, wait...do you mean the hospital?"

Max nodded frantically.

She missed her opportunity yesterday, her chance to be a good friend to someone who desperately needed one. They didn't even pass the hospital last time; Chloe took a different route, in order to allow Max to see her old childhood home.

 _This has to be fate, right? One last time to gain a little good karma. I mean...it's only a few minutes. We_ can't _be in that kind of danger, where just a half hour at the hospital is going to make or break our ride to freedom._

If it was a risk...well...Kate deserved that she take the shot, all the same.

"Kate's here, according to what people have been posting on Facebook, right? Look, I just wanna dart in and talk to her. Make sure she's doing okay."

She could see the struggle written all over Chloe's face, caught between trying to be a good, supportive girlfriend, and Max's voice of reason.

"Don't worry. I won't be gone long. I promise I'll rewind back as much of my coming and going as I can, so I'm hardly on any camera feeds or seen by nurses. And once I'm done, we're leaving, so...it'll be fine. Trust me." Max said, leaning in to rub Chloe's arm reassuringly. Clearly the other girl wasn't happy about it, worrying at her bottom lip. But she nodded, and murmured low. "Okay. Just...I should probably stay here. Keep a look out. Less risky that way, right? Although shit, I don't have a phone anymore, so...I guess I'll just come run in and find you, if shit hits the fan. Then you can rewind back."

Max nodded. "Yeah. Good idea. Great! Okay, I won't be too long. I promise! But thank you. This is really important to me..."

Chloe laughed through her nose, and whispered. "I know, baby. Come back safe, okay?" Chloe pulled the truck into a space near the back, where it could remain inconspicuous without looking like it was trying to hide.

They shared one more kiss, before Max hopped out of the truck. She took a few steps, and then turned back, waving at Chloe with her fingertips, before walking around to crouch out of sight behind the truck, making a note of the time in order to give her a place to rewind back to, and then continued on towards the hospital. As she crossed the distance to the main building, she forced herself to resist the urge to run; not that she was feeling afraid, quite the opposite. She was so grossly, disgustingly, ridiculously happy, and it was all she could do to keep from skipping and running from place to place.

 _Okay Max. Chill here. Seriously, really. Play it cool. Gotta be Michaela one last time. For Kate's sake._

She was relieved to find that Kate was still registered at the hospital, and that neither she nor her family chose to opt-in for the additional privacy protections that prevented any person off the street - say, a certain young woman with dyed black hair - from finding out what room she was staying in. Not that the nurse would remember. Not after Max stepped into the bathroom of a conveniently empty room on Kate's floor. Rewound back, and then walked as quickly yet inconspicuously as possible over.

She knocked on the door, then decided to let herself in. The room was bright and airy, despite the fact that the sun was now fully set. There was a small vase with a lovely arrangement of tulips, and a balloon bouquet cheerfully emblazoned with any number of encouraging sentiments. Kate was looking well, dressed in a white t-shirt embroidered with flowers, and a pair of loose scrub pants. The finished remains of a hospital meal were set aside on a tray near the bed. Kate herself was sitting cross-legged on the chair, scribbling away at a drawing pad on her lap.

The blonde girl looked up, her face immediately bursting into confused surprise which then morphed into a smile of delight. Placing the pad down, she rose, and trotted over to give Max a hug.

"Mack!" Kate called out. "I...I can't believe you're here. I thought...I really thought I'd never see you again." She paused, pulling back from the embrace, and added. "This is going to sound weird, but part of me almost wondered if you were actually real."

Max smiled in return, laughing lightly. "Oh Kate. Of course I'm real! What's that supposed to mean?" She paused, and the recalled. "Uh. Right. You mean with the whole..." She groaned, bowing her head and nervously scrubbing at the back of her head. "S-sorrrrry. About that. Really, I am. But you know, I have anxiety issues? And no offense, I mean...this isn't on you or anything, but...but that was a really intense situation, right? When the door opened behind me I just..." She shook her head and gave an elaborate shrug. "I panicked. Like, major freak out, and...wow. Did you see me? I never thought I'd ever get a chance to try out my gymnastic skills that way. Gosh. So stupid. I mean, I could have gotten hurt, for cereal." She covered up her face, to hide an embarrassed blush that was only partially feigned.

Kate took her hand, gave a little bounce, and shook her head emphatically. "No. No, it's okay. All that matters is you came back. I finally get a chance to tell you how sorry I am. I feel so ridiculous."

Max gave a slight frown, and shook her head. "No way. Nuh uh. That wasn't on you. None of it was. Other people were to blame, you know? Don't let anyone ever make you feel small, or a victim, because...because you had a moment. You know...you got pushed to the brink. But it was all on you in the end. You didn't jump, Kate. _You_ made the choice."

They walked over, each taking a chair at the table near the back. "I don't think I could have done it alone. I'm so grateful to you for coming up to the roof to talk me down. Mack, I felt so lost and alone. So imagine how it felt, when someone I didn't even know, who didn't know me, came to my rescue. You cared so much, and you were trying so hard. It made me realize I wasn't alone. That I'll _never_ be alone. Thank you." She paused, and then reached over to grab a nearby newspaper. "And look! Look what happened today! Did you read this already?"

Max made a cursory glance over the headline, and nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, I mean, I saw it online. That's...that's so insane, isn't it? But Kate, this must be like total vindication! This Nathan guy confessed that he drugged you. He even said that what he did to you was the last straw, that it made him so guilty. He and...I guess one of your teachers was doing crazy shit with him? I mean wow. I hope Blackwell isn't always like that. Honestly, my mom is already freaking out about me possibly attending. But everyone knows you were telling the truth. No one can deny it, not anymore."

Kate took a deep breath, and let it out, a soft, pained smile drawing across her lips. "I've...I'm trying to look at it all as a challenge. That God was testing me. Testing my faith and...I just." She shook her head, and then gave a light laugh, blinking away a couple of tears. "I can't believe it. It's like a fairy tale, Mack. I'm trying my best to remain humble. I think maybe that's the _real_ test now. Because it's...oh." She stopped short. "I'm sorry, I know so little about you. Do you know much about the Bible?"

"Oh. A bit? I studied it, but only as a historical document, you know, a year or two ago in school."

Kate blinked, then narrowed her eyes, suspicion creeping into them. "Wait a second. I thought you said you spent the last five years being held prisoner by a cult?"

 _Fuuuuuuuuuuuu..._

Max quickly rewound, bitterly chastising herself for slipping up so easily.

"...know much about the Bible?" Kate repeated.

"A little? Not any more than any other person knows? Sorry, but Dear Old Dad was more into weird New Agey shit with that...that c-cult...and...uh." She hugged herself.

"Oh...I'm sorry." Kate breathed out. "Is this too painful for you?"

Max quickly shook her head, intentionally putting in a pinch too much enthusiasm. "No! I...I wanna hear what you're thinking."

"Well, you know about the Hebrews escaping from slavery in Egypt, right?" Kate inquired.

"Oh sure. They made a movie about that, right? Prince of Egypt? Ha...I loved the music in that."

"There's this part, near the end. The Hebrews are celebrating the death of the Egyptians who were pursuing them across the parted Red Sea. And the Angels in Heaven wanted to sing as well, but God chastised them. He told them, 'The work of my hands is being drowned in the sea and you want to sing songs?' Anyhow, the point is that even God doesn't celebrate the downfall of the wicked. I don't want to give into pride. Or wrath." She swallowed hard. "Sometimes, it's harder than I imagined."

Max reached out and squeezed Kate's hand. "It's natural, Kate. Human nature, you know? To be angry at people who hurt you. And a lot of people hurt you. I don't mean to rub it in, but it's , _now_ everyone is sorry, and acting all repentant, but..." she sighed heavily. "I guess the point I want to make is that you are amazing. A lot of people would be angry, you know? Furious. And who could blame them? But the fact that you're trying to be gracious in victory says a lot about you, as a person. I'm really proud of you, Kate."

Kate looked down, smiling with embarrassment. "You should see all the letters and postcards, now. I...I gave most of the flowers away to the other patients here, because they need them more than me. I'm keeping the balloons though!"

Max laughed. "Heck yeah, you should keep them!"

They fell into a sudden silence. She swallowed, and was just on the edge of asking Kate about her parents when the other girl beat her to the punch.

"M-mack? Can I ask you something? Something that will sound really strange, but...but I need to know. I'm sorry...I might never get another chance."

"What? Oh. Sure, Kate. You can ask me anything."

Kate closed her eyes, and breathed in sharply through her nose. She scrubbed her hands together and spoke in a low voice. "The other day. When you helped me...saved me. And then you ran. I saw the whole thing. The security officer, I think he was only focusing on me, but I looked after you as you jumped and rolled around. I...I saw you _disappear_. One second you were there, the next you were gone."

Max felt a tight, hot knot of fear twist in her throat. She had to rewind back a couple of times to comfort her face into an appropriate mask of confusion.

"Whaaaat? No, no...I just ducked around the other side of that chimney. You must have missed it or something."

Kate didn't respond at first, and for a moment, Max wondered if she managed to convince her that her eyes were playing tricks. Instead, she responded, "I know what I saw. And I asked around, made a couple of phone calls. No one at Blackwell knows anything about a visiting applicant, not one with your name. No one remembered ever seeing you or talking to you. At all. And...and..." she looked up, gazing sideways at her, not full on. "You said your name was Michaela. The feminine of Michael. You came out of nowhere, at my darkest hour, and helped me through this great trial. And now a miracle happened...and..." she waved a hand back towards the newspaper.

"I just want to know, Mack. Is it...are you...?"

Max blinked rapidly.

 _Oh shit. Oh helllll no! The last thing I need is for Kate to think I'm...wow!_

She was pleased that she managed to maintain an easy, almost bemused air, as she reached out to grip Kate's shoulder. "Listen to me. I'm...I'm not divine or special or...or whatever? Really, all you need to know is that I'm someone who was in the right place, at the right time. It was in my power to try and save a life. To reach out and comfort someone who was in desperate pain. Whatever I am, whomever you think I might be? Does it need to be anything more than that? More than what I just told you?"

Kate didn't seem convinced. Max could see it in her eyes, the intense personal struggle, just beneath the surface. She could only imagine what it must be like, to be in Kate's shoes, utterly convinced she was in the presence of the truly supernatural, and totally unsure how to proceed. It was all Max could do to keep from squirming nervously in her seat. A good ten seconds passed, before she found herself taken by surprise as Kate leaned in, crushing her in another ferocious hug.

"Th-thank you, Mack! You are...you're amazing! I promise you, I'll never forget what you did for me. I'll never stop trying to live up to your example."

 _Okay. She's not gonna press the issue. I'll take that as a win. Also: awwww! Oh my God, Kate. You are the sweetest!_

Max swallowed against her tight throat, and gave a shy smile in return. "Hey...hey I'm just...uh. Anyhow, enough about _me_ , how's your family? They treating you okay, after everything that happened?"

"Yes. But it's like they think they have to protect me forever. They're so upset, especially my mother. I know they feel guilty, even though they didn't do anything. They're going to come pick me up tomorrow..."

"That's great. It sounds like everything is going to work out just fine, then." Max glanced down at the table, and smiled. "Hey...you do this? You draw? These are really great!"

Kate grinned in return. "Thank you. The nurse was nice enough to give me a pad and a pencil. My work...it'd gotten really dark for a while, but now, I'm feeling so inspired. I have an idea for a new children's book, about bullying. I was thinking it would be nice, to mix my drawings with some real life photographs. I just wish I knew a photographer I wanted to work with. The other students at Blackwell...some of them are great with a camera, but there's some hurt feelings I need to get over first."

"Oh?" Max brightened up. "Funny, I just started getting back into photography. Uh...um. Was part of the reason I was looking at Blackwell. Although...I...there are some other schools my Mom and I are considering too..."

Kate was quiet for a moment, and then suggested, "Well, if you came to Blackwell, maybe we could work on it together?"

The sharp, keen pain, of a life she was forever cruelly denied stabbed through Max's chest like a blade. She suddenly burst into tears at this, and she had to rewind back several times in order to give herself enough leeway to clamp down on her emotions.

 _Shit! The way Kate is looking at me...I must be getting sloppy, probably gonna starting looking like a skipping movie clip if I'm not more careful!_

"Y-yeah. I...look Kate, I'm not sure if I'm gonna be at Blackwell next semester. There's stuff going on, and the decision isn't fully mine. Not really. But..." she reached out, first thinking to squeeze the other girl's hand, but couldn't resist, shifting to embrace her close, and intensely relieved that Kate gladly went with it.

"I would totally do it, though, you know? Be a student, and be your friend, and we would do epic things together."

They chatted away for a little while longer, Max unhappily mindful of the time. She couldn't believe how quickly she bonded with Kate, barely knowing the girl. As much as it hurt to have made a friend and then abandon her...

 _I made the right choice, coming here. I would have hated myself if I passed this opportunity by._

"Thanks again for visiting me, Mack. You know how to get a hold of me so...keep in touch. Okay?"

"I'll try my best. I promise. One way or the other, I know you're gonna have a great life, Kate."

Reluctantly pulling away, Max forced her feet to move ahead, towards the door, down the hall, and out of Kate Marsh's life forever...

...and when Kate rushed out a few moments later, she called out, "Mack! Hey Mack, I forgot, I meant to give you something." A picture was clutched in her hands. She stopped by the nurses station and asked, "Excuse me. Did you see another girl passing through? Short black hair, plaid shirt. She was just visiting me."

The nurse looked up with a quizzical expression. "I'm sorry. I didn't see anyone like that. Are you sure?"

"Yes! She would have just walked down this way barely thirty seconds ago."

"Sweetheart," the nurse started, kindly. "I watch this hallway like a hawk. I promise you, the last visitor to pass by me was over ten minutes back."

Kate stared out incredulously towards the exit, blinking in confusion.

* * *

Max rewound back, taking advantage of the same bathroom trick a second time; all the better to keep from being seen by the duty nurse. She walked around from behind the truck, and hopped back into the passenger seat.

"So...how did the visit go?" Chloe asked, relieved to see her return.

Max leaned in, hugging her close and kissing her cheek. "Great. It was fantastic. It made me happy, and really sad though. But thank you, Che. I mean it. I know this was probably boring for you, waiting out here in the truck."

Chloe shrugged and gave an affable smile. "It's easy enough, waiting for my Maxima to come back to me."

"Well, I promise, we're done with Arcadia Bay. Time to hit the road. We'll...we'll make a big thing out of it, you know? Take turns. Drive all night. We won't stop in Portland, we'll cruise all the way through Washington State or...or something."

Chloe lit up, and laughed. "Yeah! Road trip, woo! Let's burn rubber." Gunning the engine, Chloe made a show of peeling out, tires squealing as they tore out of the parking lot, to begin their adventure at last.

Or at least for the next five minutes.

"Chloe, stop! Please? Pleaseplease..."

"Holy shit...baby? Please tell me you're just fucking with me now?"

Max shook her head, pointing frantically at Blackwell as it came up on the righthand side.

"You...seriously, _are_ fucking with me? What...no? Whyyyyy? Why Black-hell?"

Max turned, gazing longingly out at the school. "I just remembered...there was a poster the other night, when we broke in the Principal's office. They're having a dance tonight, Chloe. Right now! An honest-to-God school dance. All the fucking time I was in captivity, one of the things I wanted more than anything was to go to one, like any normal kid. Better yet, go to one with a date. And...and..." she swallowed hard, turning back to Chloe. She choked down a sob when she realized the blunette was already turning into the parking lot.

"Oh fuck...thank you! Thank you, Che! I know this sounds crazy, I know this seems like the worst idea but...but it's not like the Feds are gonna bust into a whole school to come looking for us. Not like anyone there knows me. We'll just go for an hour. No more than two. And then we go back and drive. All night, just like I said. Last thing. This is totally it...I pr..."

Chloe reached out, placing fingers on her lips in an effort to playfully hush her. "Sweetie. Let me just say...I can probably think of a million reasons why this is _the worst_ idea in the history of everything. And there's only one reason why I can think of to do this. Know what it is?"

Max blushed, and muttered around Chloe's fingertips. "Because I'm so sweet and adorable?"

"Heh. Yeah. Because you're so hella sweet and adorable. Because I can see how happy it'll make you. And making you happy is worth a million bad ideas. Also, I remember that it's still technically your birthday today."

"Oh my God. Best girlfriend ever." Max breathily remarked.

Their lips met in a brief but intense kiss, before Max lept out of the truck, ran around to grab Chloe's hand possessively, and all but bounce her way towards the school gymnasium.

* * *

As she watched from inside her SUV, Rachel breathed out, "No. Fucking. Way. Gotta be absolutely shitting me. How lucky did we just get tonight?"

She pulled off into the far side of the parking lot at Blackwell, pulled out her cell phone, and started to text.

 **9PrincessInAmber** : OMG babe. Bestest news evar!

 **VickyVicious** : That tracker thing he put on the truck actually works?

 **9PrincessInAmber** : Totes. Been chasing it down. Finally caught up to our ladies. You won't believe where they be going.

 **9PrincessInAmber** : Literally: walking into your dance party at the school.

 **VickyVicious** : ...I don't fucking believe it.

 **9PrincessInAmber** : IKR? I'll be there in 5, tops.

Rachel smiled to herself, as she slipped out of the car and made her way towards the gym.

 _Five million bucks, and maybe a slice of personal redemption...here I come!_

* * *

 _ **A/N:** _ Heeeeeyoooo! It's Black Swan Friday! Lyta is running out of clever ways to essentially say the same thing over and over, and NQW continues to buff and polish like a boss!

Ahhh Kate. You precious, precious cinnamon roll! One of my regrets is that I don't get to use her more in this story.

I just found out that it's **TM Calypso** 's birthday today, so Happy Black Swan Birthday to them!

There is an old school literary Easter egg in this chapter somewhere. Whoever correctly guesses it first - and all guesses have to be submitted via review in order to keep it fair - gets...uh...more than honor, fame and glory, right? How about a little cameo mention in an upcoming chapter? Not that there are too many of those left!

I've been working like a fiend on the finale this week. Literally, I've written close to 14,000 words since I started on Tuesday. I suspect that this thing could bulk up into a 20K - 22K monster. Which means I have to ask all of you folks in the audience a question: What is your preference? To publish the finale in three parts, over the course of a week (Monday - Wednesday - Friday) or drop a big huge single chapter all at once? Let me know, please!

Anyhow, this is probably the last of the really "fluffy" chapters. Shit starts getting increasingly real from this point on. See ya next Friday!


	35. We Always Want What We Can't Have

Max felt as if she were vibrating, as she meshed her fingers tightly into Chloe's. If she could step back and pause for a moment, she might laugh at how excited she'd let herself become, over nothing more than a school dance; an incredibly common occurrence.

 _For normal people..._

She couldn't properly explain her excitement; the lights seemed crisper, the colors more vivid against the darkness. The moon was bright, shimmering with a silvery luster. In this moment, the End of the World Dance at Blackwell Academy was all Max needed or wanted, other than the girl at her side.

 _Just give me this. Of all the things you've denied me, Life. Give me a magic night with my girlfriend, and I can live forever on the memories._

"Wow! Really - uh - really jazzed, huh?"

Laughing, Max replied, "Is it that obvious?"

"Babe, you are bouncing around like a bunny on speed. Okay, well, maybe not that bad. But you know, you need to play it cool. Even if you weren't trying to, y'know, keep a low profile, as we walk into the dance where you could totally be recognized by any of the people who might've seen you on Tuesday.

Max blushed brightly, and checked herself, dampening the outward show of her enthusiasm as best she could. "Sorry." she murmured with embarrassment, though she still smiled wide. Chloe leaned in, kissing her hair. "It's okay, baby. This sorta thing isn't my scene but...but I _am_ enjoying myself, watching how much you want it. Like a kid at Christmas."

"Oh God. Am I that bad?" She paused, then nodded. "Shit, I really am. You know what's worse? I'm dying that we didn't plan ahead. So I could dress up. You know, I'm thinking...oh shit. What am I thinking? Help me, Chloe, I don't have a style of my own."

"Oh. You know. Maybe a little more on the femme side? Make up?"

"Yes! I actually know how to Make Up, believe it or not! Alanna taught me! And...and maybe a skirt. Mini skirt. Nothing too short, but still, nice, you know? A tight fitting sweater top, maybe cut high in order to show off my abs?" Max reached out and tapped her fingers underneath Chloe's chin. "Jaw back up, lover."

"Hah! Well, you know how to paint a picture I like! So do I get to pick out my own clothes, or are you dressing me up too?"

Max slowed up, turning to face Chloe in full. "Oh. You clean up pretty awesome, hon. Doesn't have to be much. Maybe some dark slacks, a white tank top underneath a button down shirt. Like butch, but soft."

"Rowwwr! You sure you wanna go to this party? I'm not trying to mock or make fun, just...you know, dancing around like a loon with a bunch of rich, entitled assholes doesn't seem like my idea of fun. But I realize you haven't had the pleasure. We could hit the road, find a hotel, and have a dance of our very own, you know?"

Max playfully rolled her eyes. "Who says we won't end up doing both?" She hugged herself briefly and then laughed, "God! Is this what it's like to be a teenager, Chloe? I mean, for cereal. Young, and free, and...and whatever!"

Chloe chuckled, "I guess? I don't know, the thrill of it kinda wore off a while back. On the other hand, I don't think I was hanging with the right people during those years."

As they approached the front doors of the gym, they were accosted by an older boy with tousled, sandy brown hair. He stumbled about, clearly inebriated, and Max tensed as he immediately locked course on them. She hadn't fully taken into account what to do in the event of drunk assholes.

 _Ah God. Please don't make me hammer punch a...well..huh. He doesn't look like a jock. Still! This is supposed to be my perfect night, and right now, this is less than perfection!_

"H-heyyyy! I...I know...I know you!" he remarked, bright and cheery. "You're that girl! The….the one. The girl who does, who did that thing. Awww! Yeah! Wait. What?" He paused, shoulders slumping, bleary eyes looking away into the darkness. He then jerked his head back up and belatedly exclaimed. "The Ninja! Aw yeah, you're the Blackwell Ninja, right? H-hey! Yeah! Ninja! Take a selfie with me, uh-uhkay? Jus' one pic. Gonna be….c-cool..."

Max blinked, momentarily feeling like a deer trapped in headlights. It wasn't that she was scared of him, quite the opposite, but at the same time, she was having curious difficulty figuring out how to deal with the situation in a way that didn't involve conspicuous physical violence, or serious threats thereof. Social subtleties, at least where other teenagers were concerned, were not her strong suit.

"Uh. Um. I'm not...look, why don't you just…"

 _Maybe it would be easier if I just rewound us back, and we avoided..._

Suddenly, Chloe shoved him away. "Jesus...Warren? This is my girlfriend, and believe me, she's not a ninja. So why don't you blow off, geek." Max felt her wrap a tight possessive arm around her shoulders, and she was more than happy to nestle against the blunette's side, as the pair of them quickened their pace towards the door.

Warren stumbled back, grumbling, and waving at the both of them in an angrily dismissive gesture. "Yeah? Yeah?! Well….well whatever? Don't...don't need...whatever…." With that, he stumbled away into the night.

Max leaned in and whispered. "My hero. Seriously, thank you." She then kissed at Chloe's neck. "I...I just wasn't sure how to deal with him, how to deal with another teenager being all...weird. And in my face.. Seriously, how fucked up is it that I've only dealt with two other people even close to my age in the past few years?."

"Wow. For once, I got to be the hero and save you." Chloe smirked, and then gave a soft sigh. "Baby? You sure you wanna do this?"

Max nodded her head emphatically. "Best believe! Not going to let some drunk dickhead ruin...hey wait. Did you call him Warren? That wasn't Warren Graham, was it?"

Chloe nodded. "Yuuuup."

"Oh shit! Yeah. Geezus, he was a nice kid in eighth grade. I wonder what happened to him?"

"Dunno." Chloe responded. "Didn't hang out with him much in school. Didn't seem like the drinking type. Maybe people are gettin' weird and blowing off steam after all the shit that's been going down this week. First Kate, and then Nathan and Jefferson."

"Y-yeah. Must be it."

As they passed through the door, Max wasn't sure what to expect. She glanced furtively over at a few girls stationed at the coat check area, and another manning a curtain that separated the anteroom from the rest of the gym. She kept her head down, glancing away in hopes that she wouldn't draw too much attention.

And yet, part of her _wanted_ to be seen. She wanted the attention. She wanted people to take note and wonder to themselves, "Hey, who's the strange girl? She seems cool. And her girlfriend looks like a real badass, too." She wanted to feel special and important in completely mundane ways, not the freaky ones that marked her as...well..unique, at any rate.

The pounding, stattico beats of club music washed over her like a heavy rain, as she and Chloe passed through the curtain. She stepped off to the side and blinked, allowing her eyes to adjust to the low light. It was like nothing Max had ever seen before.

 _Holy...wow! Jesus, I can't believe they're having a dance party in a pool!_

It was ethereal and otherworldly. The blood red water, the pulsating strobes slashing through the dark. The arms and wrists bedecked with glow bracelets. Some of the girls were even dancing around in little more than bikinis and UV-reactive body paint.

It was horrific...and glorious, all at once. Deep inside, Max felt simultaneously appalled and ravenous; the same anxious frisson that she experienced during her last shopping trip alone in Seattle. It tore through her. She felt herself being pulled apart by competing forces: the desire to dive in headlong and socialize, to well and truly live at long last, and the panicky anxiety demanding that she turn right the fuck around, flee into the night and find a small, safe space to crawl into.

She wanted it to end.

She prayed for more.

Turning to Chloe, she buried her face against her girlfriends chest and took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of her clothes and skin. Safe and reassuring. Sexy and exotic. It immediately calmed her nerves, and gave her strength to persevere. She pulled back, and glanced around, finding that the worst of her anxiety was ebbing away for the moment.

"Whoa. Wow. Okay, again, do you _really_ want to be here, Max?" Chloe whispered. Again, Max nodded furiously.

"S-sorry. This is gonna sound weird, but this is something I have to do. Just...I'm really starting to appreciate how living in that damn hole all these years fucked me up. Like...if I turn and slink away now, then that's one more thing they've succeeded in taking away from me. This is my last chance to have something….something glorious and mundane! Part of me doesn't want to do anything else, or _be_ anywhere else other than here, and I hate that I'm having all this anxiety about it.

"Huh-hey! Yo, Chlo-stick. The haps?" Max recognized Justin walking towards the two of them, spying his approach over Chloe's shoulder. The blunette stuck out a fist, bumping it against his and muttered. "Hey dawg."

"'Sup? Can't believe you're here. Fuck! Can't believe _I'm_ here, but you know, after all the shit from this week, it really _does_ feel like the world might be ending. I mean Jesus, you read the paper?"

"Yeah." Chloe murmured. "Thirty-one flavors of fucked up, that's for sure." A wicked smile then pulled her lips apart. She leaned in, and Max could barely hear her whisper, over the music, "Heyyyy. You wanna do some sistahs a favor? My lady here could use a little herbal Xanax, you know what I mean?"

Max watched as Justin blinked, and then gave her the once over, as if noticing her for the first time. "Oh? Oh." His eyes lit up. "Oooooooh!. Ha. Ha ha hah yeeeeeah." He poked Chloe in the ribs with his elbow. "Lady. Yeah. Nice, Chlo, nice! Good to see you gettin' over Rachel, finally." He blanched, putting his fingers over his mouth. "Eh. Sorry lady-girl. Sorry. Name's Justin. What can I call you?" He held out a friendly hand and Max took it. She wasn't sure what to make of the goofy skater-boi, but he was quickly growing on her. The easy, amiable gesture was winning her over, and easing her anxiety.

"I'm...Mack. It's uh...it's short of Michaela, y'know?"

 _Ack! Shit, probably shouldn't have used_ that _name again._

Justin shrugged, gave a goofy grin, and said, "Hey. Cool. No offense, but that kinda sounds like a stripper's name."

Max snorted, and said with a light laugh. "You have no idea how many times I've heard that. It's why I go by Mack."

"Alriiight. Shall we adjourn somewhere for medical treatment? Word has it the girl's locker room is doubling as the chill lounge tonight." He canted a head towards the back half of the pool area, which was cordoned off and marked with a VIP sign. "Assuming you aren't 'cool' enough to get into the Asshole Corral back there."

Chloe shook her head, "Nah. We don't got the time for the Pretty Pretty Precious Vortex Club." Max allowed herself to be guided along; on one hand, she wasn't exactly thrilled that she was having to turn to drugs to deal with her anxiety issues. On the other hand…

 _I've gotten baked every day since Monday. Might as well keep the ball rolling._

* * *

A half hour later, and with most of a joint's worth of THC coursing through her veins, Max was in more convivial spirits. Chloe was much happier to be in her element as well, trash talking with a few of her other skater and punk friends as they passed joints and pipes around in the near dark of the locker room, and Max was happy to have her be the center of attention. She closed her eyes and did her best to suppress yet another pang of guilt at what she was taking Chloe away from.

 _On the other hand, she looks ready to move on from this chapter of her life. Also? Where the hell are the adults? God, does anyone even know the meaning of the words 'security' or 'liability' around here?_

Eventually, Max was able to pull Chloe away, back towards the dance floor. Grabbing a handful of glow bracelets and festooning their wrists, she smiled, the music buzzing through her ears and flowing through her skin. She started dancing, or at the very least moving to the rhythm. She'd never really tried to dance per se, not in years, at least not if it wasn't part of some martial exercise routine back during her training days at Zion. Chloe kept her body movements low key, just enough to move with the beat, but Max felt the urge to express herself taking over. Bereft as she was of any other experience, she allowed her limbs to flow in controlled patterns, closing her eyes and letting the energy of the party swallowed her whole. Her tai-chi katas bubbled up into the forefront of her mind, and she let her mind go blank, zoning out as she stared off into the lights, the swirling patterns made by all of the glowing colors burning brightly in the dark. She felt so connected in this moment, a part of something greater, larger than herself. Whatever it was she thought she was looking for, she was certain she'd found it. Right here and now.

 _I'm free! Oh God, I'm free! I'm never going back! Never again!_

It felt like an eternity, and no time at all, when she finally opened her eyes and saw Chloe staring at her, a dumbstruck smile on her face.

"What?" Max squeaked, stopping cold and feeling self-conscious.

"Just...just watching you dance, angel. It's awesome and everything, but I think you're drawing attention, so...might wanna kinda...tone it down."

Max blushed, looking around, and realizing there were more than a few students glancing in her direction. She a sense of utter panic well up inside, until she spotted the nods and thumbs up, the encouraging smiles.

 _A-awesome! Wow!_

She tried her best to take her enthusiasm down a few notches, sighing with dismay as she realized she didn't know how to dance casually. She took Chloe's hands in her own, for lack of anything better to do with them, and the two swayed together, occasionally trading kisses.

Finally, Chloe leaned in and murmured, "Hey babe, I told Justin earlier that I'd meet up with him back at the locker room. 'Cause I'm stocking up on weed for the long, cold road ahead. You wanna come with, or just hang out around here?"

Max blinked. Instinctively, she didn't want to be more than three feet away from Chloe. At the same time, she realized that if she couldn't handle herself out in the real world - in large crowds - on her own, she was going to be more of a liability than Chloe ever would.

"N-no. I'm good, baby. I think I'm gonna walk over to the drinks table over there and chill. Come back soon?" She kissed her girlfriend on the cheek. Chloe leaned in and nuzzled back, before taking off.

Max almost immediately regretted the decision, feeling more self-conscious by the second. Trying to keep from looking conspicuous only fed into her anxiety, like a crazy feedback loop. She fiddled with her hair, until she realized she was gently tugging at it, then clasped her hands behind her back, until she realized she'd instinctively gravitated into a military 'at ease' position, and how out of place that looked in a dance full of rich prep-school kids.

 _Okay...maybe...maybe this wasn't such a hot idea._

She bit her lip, strongly resisting the increasing urge to wind back time for the sole purpose of delaying Chloe, and instead busied herself with looking over the refreshments.

 _Man...soda...juice. Energy drinks. Clearly some drunk kids around, so where are they getting the booze from? God, I'm getting bored, reading all of the drink labels. Man, I wish I had my smart phone. I mean, terrible tactical decision, sure, but at least I'd have something to do while I'm standing out here like an idiot._

Max glanced around the pool area and suddenly felt so very small. The urge to back away and hide in a corner soon became overwhelming, bursting its way through her pleasant buzz. She glanced over at a few other individuals sulking by the refreshments table. Two in particular caught her eye: a girl with black-rimmed glasses and dark hair bound up in a pony tail, and a heavyset boy, also wearing glasses.

 _They...they seem nice. Did I hear them talk about going to an art museum? Probably a couple. Maybe I should go over and talk to them. Introduce myself, make friends…_

 _...oh God._

 _And what would you say? 'Hi there! My name is Max! I can bend time with a thought, and spent the last five years a virtual prisoner of the US Government, so I apologize in advance if I barely know anything about whatever is cool these days. But if you want to chat about the best way to field strip an M-16 or take out an assailant using only your thumbs, then hey! I'm totally your gal! Oh! And simply talking to me might put your lives in danger!'_

Bowing her head, she fought back the urge to burst into tears.

 _Stupid. God, I am such an idiot! What was I thinking, coming here? That I could somehow erase five years of stunted social development and...and get back everything that was stolen from me, at one school dance? That I could play pretend and 'hang' and…_

She felt the first few tears well up in her eyes as they closed. Her fingers were dangerously close to crushing the still-unopened can in her hand. She envisioned what she would ever do to Martinet if she ever had the chance. Violent impulses bubbled up, churning her adrenalin levels.

 _It...it wouldn't be quick and painless. Oh the shit I would do to him! The pieces on his body I'd start on first!_

Her eyes flew open and she desperately wiped at them. Cracking open her can of Red Bull, she angrily chugged a few mouthfuls down, turned and stepped away, determined to find Chloe.

 _Fuck it, I should just rewind back the whole…_

"Max? Max Caulfield? Holy shit!"

Max turned her head in automatic response. Cursing herself for the mistake, she rewound back a second, making sure to act completely unresponsive, in the hopes that whomever was trying to get her attention would take the hint.

"Max? Max Caulfield? Holy shit!"

She continued to sip her Red Bull and walk away, pretending not to have heard

 _God damnit, who here could possibly recognize or remember me?_

She felt fingers tapping her on the shoulder, prompting her to turn halfway. She came face to face with a girl roughly her age, maybe a little taller in height. Dressed in preppy fashion, marked by a sweater vest and understated pearls. Her hair was styled in a short pixie cut. Max didn't even try to place the face, needing to keep her reactions as authentic as possible.

"Can I...help you?" she droned curtly, taking a long pull of her drink to punctuate the question.

"Max. Seriously, do you _not_ recognize me?"

Doing her best to play dumb, Max scrunched up her face and said, "'Yeah...you've got me confused with someone else. My name isn't Max. Sorry." She started to turn away, as if that ended the conversation. But a hand was laid on her shoulder…

...and then every word that came out of the other girl's mouth sounded silky sweet, slithering pleasurably in her ears.

"You are _such_ a kidder. C'mon, I know that's you. Fess up."

Max turned back to face the other girl in full and was forced to catch her breath as her eyes drank her in.

Whomever she was, she was actually _really_ cute, the way her short cut blonde hair framed her face, and the obvious radiant confidence shining from her eyes and smile. Suddenly, Max _wanted_ to remember who was talking to her. She had a happy smile on her lips, as she answered without even thinking about it, "Y-yeah. Heh. Yeah, it's me. Sorry...I...I didn't realize it was you. Um...uh."

She didn't want to take the chance of giving offense but damned if Max could remember who the hell this was exactly - other than the first friendly face she'd seen since she got here! She did look familiar though…

"It's me! Victoria Chase! We went to middle school together. Don't you remember?"

Max faintly recalled the name.

 _Wasn't she kinda...um...kinda the bitchy…_

Immediately, she halted her improper line of thought. Standing before her was Victoria Chase. It wasn't like they were the best of friends back then, but...but that was because Max wasn't fortunate enough to get to know her back then. She was getting a chance to rectify that now. What a lucky break!

 _Wow...I mean, look at how happy she is to see me! I am so seriously lucky! I mean...yeah! Yeah! Victoria Chase! Oh my God!_

A euphoria grew, deep inside her chest and brain, the longer she remained in her presence.

"Oh! Oh my God, Victoria! Holy...shit! Wow! Is that you? Really? Oh my God!" Max babbled. "Yes! Of course I remember. How could I forget? It's...it's really great to see you!"

She couldn't help herself, so happy to see such a good friend from her childhood days. She all but threw her arms around her, in a tight, but awkward hug, but then quickly let go, worrying she'd crossed a line. The thought of somehow embarrassing Victoria out in public became increasingly unbearable.

But the blonde lit up with effuse pleasure, hugging back, and Max was so relieved to see she hadn't made a fool of herself. The smile on her face grew to almost painful intensity in reaction to Victoria taking her hand and saying, "Wow! This is so great. What are you doing here? What have you been up to?" Max felt herself go weak in the knees as she felt a warm breath play against an earlobe as the other girl leaned in to whisper, "You can tell me the truth. Are you a secret agent on the run?"

There was a nauseating chill building in her stomach and head. A distinct sense of something...wrong. Max couldn't figure out the exact problem. Was it wrong, the question being asked of her? Or was it wrong that Max was thinking about not being absolutely truthful? She wanted to be right, she wanted to chase away the wrongness, the painful dark and cold that threatened to remove her from….from the pure, brilliant light that was Victoria! A question was asked, and it _needed_ be be answered.

"Y-yeah." Max whispered back, giggling drunkenly. "I am. I so am. I mean...that's pretty killer, right?"

There. That was easier. Telling the truth felt soooo much better!

 _Oh...yeeeeah. Nothing to hide. Nothing to hide at all. Not from my best friend Victoria!_

"Awesome! I knew you were something majorly cool. You were always cool before, and this just proves it!"

Max felt like she could live on that one line of praise for years!

"Hey, I tell you what. I've got a nice cozy spot set aside, over in the VIP lounge." She waved her hand near the back of the pool area, but Max didn't turn to look, couldn't bear to look in another other direction but Victoria's. "Anyhow, we should go there and talk. Won't that be fun? God, we've got so much to catch up on!"

Max started to nod, and then struggled.

Wait. Wasn't there...there was someone she was waiting for. Someone...someone important. Really important. It was…

"Ah...I...uh...um. My. Chloe. Chloe is coming back for me...I mean...I _want_ to go with you, but my girlfriend..." Max looked around, like a deer trapped in headlights. Flummoxed and absolutely uncertain how to proceed.

"The punk chick with the blue hair? Oh yeah, that's cool. No problem. She's invited, too. Don't worry, my friend's tracking her down right now. She'll come back with her, and the four of us can all just chill and be best buds."

Victoria took her hand, and Max suddenly found herself ready to go anywhere. Anywhere at all.

 _Oh man. I am sooooo glad I came to this dance!_

* * *

"Awww. C'mon, dude. Seriously? You're killing me here."

Chloe's efforts to procure additional weed were not working out as well as she'd hoped.

Justin gave a thin smile and shrugged. "Sorry Chlo. I mean, ch'yeah, I got a little nug of wax I could part with, but I'm not in the habit of carrying whole ounces on me and shit. Not even for a party like this. I mean...why don't you just go bug the shit out of Frank?"

Chloe crossed her arms and scowled, "We're not exactly 'sympatico' right now." she said, throwing up a set of air quotes with her fingers.

Justin laughed, "Ohhh yeeeeah. Hah. I heard, maaan. He's so pissed at you right now. Word is you owe him a hella massive pile of paper."

Flicking the skater punk hard on the shoulder with her fingers, she mutter. "Yeah yeah yeah. Fuck it. Don't worry about me and that situation. Frank'll get everything he deserves." She crossed her arms, peevishly. "Well fine, you know anyone else carrying, tonight?"

"Hey, babe. I'm sure I can get you all the party favors you need. Just give a gal a shot to make amends?"

Chloe's heart launched itself square against her throat, prompting her to choke and sputter. She turned around in one swift, jerking motion, unable to believe her ears let alone her eyes. There she was, in the flesh. Six months after cruelly abandoning her. After making a complete and utter fool of her.

"H-holy shit, yea-haaa! Rachel Fucking Amber! The Party Queen returns." Justin called out, striding over with an exaggerated sway in his gait. The two of them exchanged a complicated series of fist bumps and high fives. "Man, I seriously thought you were dead or something. People were saying you went down to South America and then totally went nuts on some ayahuasca trip. Like, you went and led some tribe of Amazon natives to rise up against the local oppressive regime, or something totally killer."

Rachel burst out laughing, and then flicked Justin between the eyes. "Shit, you are stoned out of your tiny mind, J. Gotta admit, I missed you." She glanced over to, Chloe, and quickly added. "...too."

Chloe could only seethe in silence. She started to turn, ready to storm out in a huff. It was either that, or launch herself into a mindless rage, but enough of her was still rational to realize that she couldn't afford to make a scene. Not when Max was here, not when they were so close to leaving.

But then she realized something else.

 _This is it. A chance. My last fucking chance to tell her off. Tell her how much she hurt me! And...and maybe...rub it in her face a little? That I found someone. Someone who actually loves me, who's way better than her. Ugh, that sounds childish as shit, Chloe._

 _Fuck it, childish it is, then…_

"Uh...hey Justin, can you do me a favor and blow out for a few mins? Chloe and I need to have some private girltalk." Rachel said.

"Cool. But you know, if you two start making out, and you feel the urge to start taking pictures or video? Go with it! Don't fight it."

Rachel rolled her eyes, but smiled nonetheless. She affectionately pounded Justin on the shoulder and muttered. "Go on, asshole. Get outta here." Chloe gave a warning frown, actually baring her teeth as her ex-friend stepped up.

"Whoa. Hey. C'mon Chloe. I...know I don't deserve a hug and a kiss, but...look. I just wanna talk. I think I owe you that much at the very least, okay?" Rachel held out her hands in submissive assent.

"Yeah yeah yeah. Only reason I'm not knocking the fucking taste out of your mouth is because we're in Black-hell. Don't need a massive scene."

"Okay. Fair enough. I'm not looking for a big bitch-fight, either."

Chloe closed her eyes and bowed her head. Despite her anger and hurt, she could feel an odd physical reaction, the traitorous pangs from the pieces of her heart that'd never managed to get over her feelings for the other girl.

 _Fuck...and she still looks amazing, of course!_

Rachel's long blonde hair ran down in soft, silky rivulets over her shoulders and across her breasts. She was dressed in a red cheongsam top and skinny leather jeans. Not her usual style, but Chloe readily accepted the possibility that she didn't know the 'real' Rachel Amber. Now or ever. She could smell the familiar sandalwood perfume, catch glances of the blue feathers from Rachel's favorite earrings. It stirred up a panoply of emotions and old memories.

 _That was in the past, Chloe. Waaaay in the fucking past. Don't get soft and sentimental here. Don't forget what she did to you. How she made you feel. And fuck! Beyond all that, don't forget who really has your heart now. Who's always been there for you. My Max…_

Rachel rocked back and forth on her heels for a moment, before finally speaking. "You - um - you look good, Chloe. Uhhh - shit." She bowed her head. "Look, I'm not gonna try and explain what the fuck happened six months ago. It was crazy, insane stuff and honestly? You wouldn't believe me if I tried to tell it all to you, anyhow. But I flipped and I freaked out. I got into a place where I was convinced that pushing everyone away was the best thing for everyone involved. It made me kinda crazy, you know? So just...I'm sorry. Okay? I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I fucking ripped your heart out and stepped on it. I just...wow." She reached up, flicking some hair out of her face before continuing. "I can't...just can't believe what you did, the lengths you went to try and find me. You know. With the posters and searching and...I had no real idea, Chlo-lo…"

"Don't call me that! You don't have the right!" Chloe yelled. Louder than she intended, her voice wet and rough with emotion. She poked Rachel hard in the solar plexus with her middle and index finger,.

"Ow! Alright, okay." Rachel stepped back, and tried again. "Chloe. It was really sweet, and amazing, and I'm so not worth it. I didn't realize until much later everything you went and did, and how crazy and dark it got for you. So I wanna make it right. Okay? Please?"

Chloe laughed, and leaned in, an unkind sneer on her lips. "Yeah, you wanna 'make it right', go talk to your old boyfriend, Frank. _You_ go and pay him back the three large I owe, trying to find out what happened to you."

Rachel blinked once, and then smiled. "Sure. Already done. Or...will be done, tomorrow."

"Oh, bullshit!" Chloe said, disbelieving.

"For real." Rachel assured, holding up a hand. "You're right. It's not fair. It _is_ my responsibility. So I'm paying it off. It's the least I owe you. I'm not asking us to be friends again. I know that ain't happening, probably. But at least...well I'm doing the best I can to end it right."

And just like that, Chloe found the roiling storm inside her chest dissipating, leaving her drained and momentarily exhausted. She wasn't about to make full amends, to take Rachel into her arms and profess her grudge over and done. But in short order, she no longer found it possible to maintain the white hot edge of anger against her former friend.

 _Jesus. And why should I keep being angry? Hurts too much, too draining to stay that mad forever. Especially when she's acting so fucking reasonable. Shit, Rachel! Shit, where was that classy attitude last month? Last month when I really needed it, and…_

It no longer mattered. That angry, lonesome Chloe from last month didn't exist. Not anymore. So much of that seething, unfocused rage was gone now, banished in the warm, purifying caress of her love. Her sweet Max. Who loved her so much, she went back in time to try and save her father. And then brought back evidence of why he had to die, and the terrible consequences of trying to change that timeline to suit Chloe's selfish need. Max, who gave and gave and gave of herself...

 _Oh damn, Max! I gotta get back to her!_

She glanced over to Rachel, and took a deep breath. There was an old line she suddenly recalled: the best revenge is living well. If Rachel actually _cared_ about her still, and was genuine in her desire to make up, the best Chloe could do was play it understated. Especially if she wanted to tweak Rachel's nose, bruise her ego just a bit.

 _Okay, maybe the reasoning's a little childish. Aw fuck it, I'm only capable of so much personal growth in a single week..._

Giving a casual, dismissive brush back of her bangs, she shrugged, and then drawled, "Okay. Yeah...yeah. Alright Rachel. We're not cool still, but we're not 'uncool' either anymore. Thanks, and uh. Yeah. Sorry, for whatever crap you went through that made you go so crazy. I hope it all ends well for you. Don't think me shitty for it, not that I care if you do, but I really gotta get going. Maybe we'll talk again, some other day."

"Wait, wait! Oh, c'mon." Rachel reached out to gently grip her wrist, a lightly pleading tone rising in her voice. "You can give me a few minutes. Just to catch up for old times sake? I heard you were looking to score some weed. I can get us a shit ton, real primo stuff. We can light up, reminisce. And - and bring your girlfriend, too." She smiled. "The famous Max. Was that her? The girl you were dancing with out on the floor?"

Chloe's guts turned into ice. She almost thought to angrily demand how the hell Rachel knew, when she realized that once upon a time, she _did_ show off old pictures of Max. And sing her praises. More than once.

Like, a lot more than once.

 _Rachel probably just putting two and two together. Still, it's getting too risky to stick around here. We totally gotta blow!_

"Yeah uh...look, normally, that sounds hella fun and shit, but I gotta hit the road. My tolerance for prep-jock merrymaking just totally burst past its limit so…see ya. Thanks again for paying Frank off, even though you totally owed me." With that, she carefully extricated her wrist from Rachel's grasp, and turned to leave.

Rachel caught her arm fully this time, and leaned in close, hissing hard against her ear.

"Jesus, Chloe! Just stop and fucking listen to me for a moment, okay? If you and Max have any hope, I mean, _any_ of not getting busted by the Feds before the week is out, you'll come with me, and let me help you. Alright?"

Her heart freezing solid, the blood draining from her face, Chloe struggled to maintain a calm demeanor. "Wh-what crazy shit are you talking about?" Rachel's eyes locked onto hers, her face set into a hard, but non-threatening expression. Fear and determination and desperation, all rolled into one.

"You know damn well what I'm talking about, Chloe. I didn't know if you did, not at first, but it's written all over your face. You always did suck at poker."

Jerking her arm out of the other girl's grasp, Chloe stalked out of the locker room, back towards the dance party, without another world, doing her best to ignore the fact that Rachel was hot on her heels. When she emerged back into the crowd, she glanced around, a sense of panic welling up inside as she realized she couldn't find her girlfriend.

Turning back to Rachel, she gripped shoulders and demanded, "Where is she? Where's Max?!"

"Hey! Hey - re-fucking-lax, babe. Max is fine. She's in the VIP lounge having a nice chat with a mutual friend." A crooked grin broke out on Rachel's face. "If you let go of the goddamn silk, _por favor_ , I'll take you to her. And _then_ can we sit down and talk like semi-adults or something? I'm fucking trying to help you out. Believe it or not, we're on the same side here."

Inhaling hard through her nose, upper lip curling slightly in a feigned snarl, Chloe said, "Just show me where she is, and _maybe_ I'll think about it."

 _Oh. Oh shit. This is...this can't be good. What the fuck?! How the hell does_ Rachel _know about the Feds and what's going on with Max? Oh shit! Maybe she's one of_ them _? Maybe she's got powers too? Jesus, this is crazy! How many fucking high school kids are secret agents, now?_

She wasn't happy with the situation. She did her best not to curse herself for being stupid enough in not trying harder to talk Max out of this whole idea; everything was becoming a huge disaster. Still, how the fuck could she have possibly guessed that they'd get found out, and by an old friend - ex-friend! - at that?

"I only have your best interests at heart, babe. I always did. Just remember that, okay? Follow me, I'll show you where she's at."

Chloe glowered darkly, balling up her fists.

"Seems I got no fucking choice."

She followed Rachel along, but prepared herself to find the first available opening where she could grab Max and get the both of them the hell away.

 _Sure as hell don't trust Rachel, any further than I could knock her body down the street with my truck._

* * *

"Wow. This is a dye job, right? I mean, sorry, that sounds bitchy. It's just that I love this color on you."

Max sat raptly at attention, eyes half lidded in delight as Victoria sat right next to her. They were holding hands, fingers tightly interlaced, as the other girl reached over and casually stroked her hair.

"Uh-uh. Uh...it's new. Wanted to throw'em off, so I had Chloe dye it. Y-y'really like it?"

"Oh. Goddess. Yes. Seriously, it's totally ferocious. I'm almost considering doing something similar." Victoria replied. "Hey, then we'd be twins!"

Max giggled merrily. Every little joke that the blonde girl told was the absolute best! Everything she said was so clever, or deep, or moving. She was, quite literally, the Most Interesting Woman In The World, and Max counted herself deeply blessed to be in her company, let alone regarded as such a close friend.

 _The best!_

From the corner of her eye, she vaguely took note of Chloe coming towards them, being led along by another blonde she didn't recognize.

"Max! Hey...babe? Are you okay?"

She turned her head slowly, caught between wanting to respond to the blunette, while still keeping Victoria in her field of vision. She laughed at herself, how silly she must have looked, and then reached out with her other hand. "Chloe. Heyyy. Hey! Look. Look who I found!" She leaned in and rest her head on Victoria's shoulder. "It's Victoria Chase! Like...like my best friend from school! She is totes amazing!" She paused, blinking unsteadily. "Wait, don't you guys like...um...don't you already know…?"

"The fuck, V? Zapped her kinda hard, didn't you?" the other blonde admonished.

"Uhh - no, Rache. I didn't, believe it or not. She must be stupid receptive to it." Victoria said defensively. "Some people are like that."

Chloe leaned in, and Max felt her cheeks being cupped. Her...wait, wasn't this her girlfriend? She stared into her eyes, searchingly. It was unpleasantly preventing her from looking at Victoria, and she began to protest.

"H-heyyyy. Q-quit it. C'mon Che…"

"Max? Are you okay? Max!" Chloe asked, in an increasingly panicked tone.

"Wha-? Y-yeah. I'm good. I'm great! Victoria and I are great! We're great, together!" She laughed, and lifted up their intertwined hands.

Chloe turned and stabbed the girl Victoria called 'Rache' viciously in the sternum. "What the fuck?! What did you do to her?!" She rounded on Victoria, and pushed her hard, making her almost fall out of her chair. "Did you dose her? What sick shit did you do?!"

"Tori, christ, turn it down! Or turn it off! I can take it from here!"

"What did you do?!" Chloe again demanded, before giving a roar of impotent rage, and reaching down to push Victoria hard against her chair.

"Holy fuck! Get your hands off me, you freak!" Victoria squealed.

Max felt her mind go numb, torn perfectly in two at the situation quickly breaking out before her eyes. Victoria was being attacked, and there were so many instincts that were absolutely screaming in her brain telling her to _defend!I Protect!_ Keep Victoria safe at all costs!

But...but it was Chloe that was attacking her! And there were more than a few bits left in Max's brain that pretty certain that the blunette was actually the one who was her best friend, not to mention the love of her life. In the chaos and confusion caused by competing primal mandates, Max felt Victoria let go, as Chloe jumped on her and delivered a backhanded smack against her face.

The haze in her brain suddenly lifted, and a pained voice, wet with agony, cut through like a knife.

"It wasn't enough you took Rachel away from me, you whore?! Now you think you can steal Max, too?!"

Max felt tears immediately burst into her eyes, at the brawl that was in full swing, Chloe and Victoria trying to scratch, kick and hit each other.

"Get off me, you lunatic! Help! Someone!" Victoria screamed.

One of the jocks rose up from his seat, and viciously ripped Chloe off her prey.

"Arrrrrrg!' the blunette roared. "Just fucking….broke my arm, asshole!"

This was terrible. The absolute worst! A total nightmare!

What had she been thinking?!

 _FUCK! Am I so pathetic, so desperate to be liked and hard up for attention that I fell into the lap of the first friendly person that came up and said hi to me? Jesus! And I don't even remember liking Victoria all that much! Or at all! Oh God! God, this is….this is!_

Max rewound in a panic, without any conscious thought. Desperate to take it all back, to keep any of it from happening. Shame and self-loathing burned through her. She burst into tears as the world rewound, as she let the currents of the time stream carry her back to just a few minutes earlier. Instinctively stopping right where Chloe started to walk away from her, towards the locker room

So focused was she on taking everything back and moving into position that she missed one crucial detail. One vital piece of the background that refused to shift into its appointed and expected place in the past, as time again resumed its normal flow

"You wanna come with or just...whoa!"

Max wrapped her arms tightly around Chloe, burying her face against her neck, and burst into sobs.

 _I hate this place. I hate it. What the hell was I thinking? I can't be normal. I'll never be normal! The only person who understands me, who loves me, is Chloe, and I almost lost her._

"Oh God, baby. Are you okay?" Chloe kissed at her hair and earlobe, stroked her back, and cradled her close. Max felt herself start to relax, felt the worst of her panic, rage and dismay bleed out, leaving her drained.

"I'm...I...I think I'm just having like...crazy anxiety panic attack shit. Too many people. You were right, you know? Was stupid, to come here. Stupid waste of time, thinking I could get all that time back, like I had anything in common with all these...these _children!_." She pulled back and gazed up at Chloe, her vision blurred through the tears. "Sorry."

 _What was I thinking? Swooning over Victoria? Fuck...she can't hold a candle to you, Che. Not even close!_

"No. It's not stupid. It was really important to you, Max. I understand that much. I only wish you found what you were looking for. C'mon, we'll blow out of town. Right now." Chloe leaned in, lips pressing close to hers in a comforting kiss. The perfect antidote to chase away the lingering nightmare she'd just experienced.

She took her hand, squeezed it tight, and was grateful to be led out.

As they stepped out into the cool night air, Chloe leaned in and whispered against her ear. "We always want what we can't have. Of course…" she planted another tiny kiss. "If we're lucky, we get the really important things."

* * *

Rachel gasped sharply; she'd been frozen, stuck helpless in place as the timestream rewound about her. She could feel Reality stubbornly trying to drag her along its currents, and yet, as long as her shield was active, she existed outside the normal boundaries of space and time.

But Reality was extremely displeased to see her once the flow of time was restored. It made no bones about registering that displeasure at the first convenient opportunity.

She recoiled in pain and alarm, falling to her hands and knees. A maddening sense of pins and needles flamed across her skin, like a million metal-legged insects crawling underneath, but worse was the almost-overwhelming sense of anxiety; a primordial and ancient piece of her brain was screaming out in blind panic, doing its damnedest to convince her that she needed to run, and hide. That she'd seen something no mortal was meant to witness. _Ever._

She gripped at her chest, her heart pounding beyond all reason, and for a moment, a part of her wondered if she was about to die from sheer terror alone.

A hand laid across her shoulder; she tried to scream, but it caught in her throat, burbling wetly.

"Jesus! Rachel, what the fuck? What just happened?"

The human contact that Victoria provided, the reminder that she was not singularly alone in the universe quickly helped dispel whatever horrific instinct was stirred up in her brain. It became easier and easier to convince herself that everything was okay, that there weren't monsters lying in wait for her in every dark corner and shadow, and that was wasn't about to die in agony.

"What...what happened?" Rachel panted laboriously. "What did you see?"

"What...what did I-? Fuck, Rambie! It…" Victoria lowered her voice to a loud whisper. "It looked like you just appeared out of thin air. I was looking right where you arrived, so I caught it. I don't think anyone else was glancing that way, so we're fucking lucky for that, but Christ! I was just about to go and have a warm, cordial chat with 'Target Alpha' out there." She canted her head, pulling back the curtain separating the VIP section from the rest of the dance floor; though the crack, Rachel could see both Max and Chloe in a tight embrace.

"Shit. Shit!" she shook her head. "You are not going to believe this, but I literally just came back from...from...well, I guess it's the future, now. Five, maybe ten minutes ago. Max and Chloe split up, and so we did the same thing. I managed to barely convince Chloe to give me a chance, and come and join us...but when we came back here, you…" and at this, she smacked Victoria in the shoulder, a bit harder than she intended. "...had her eating out of the palm of your hand, to the point where Chloe was convinced you were macking on her or something. I don't have to remind you what her jealous side looks like, do I?"

"Owww!" Victoria protested, rubbing her arm, and glared. "What?! Damn...that's….that's crazy! And don't blame me for shit I didn't even do!"

"Well sorry, but I'm still really freaking out right now! If I hadn't managed to turn on my shielding power at the right second, I would have been wiped out along with the rest of the timeline or...or whatever the hell it is she does.I feel like I just almost just died back there. I mean...fuck! You know how that screws with your brain? But...aw, christ! They're leaving! "

Victoria had a flummoxed expression on her face; clearly there was too much being thrown at her to easily process. "Wait. What? You came back from the future? So why didn't you bring me?"

"Really?! Sohhhhreee, I didn't think to grab your hand while Chloe was trying to scratch your eyeballs out. I did it all on instinct. I think I was trying to null Max, because I could just sense she was about to fire off her time-juju, but I sorta fumbled it and shielded myself instead. And after what I just experience, you should be fucking thanking me for not dragging you along! Anyhow, we're damn lucky I did all this, because now we know why they're leaving; you spooked them!"

" _I_ spooked them…?! I….you….shit!" Victoria pounded her fists against her thighs in frustration. "We can't fight about this now, okay?! We need to go after them!" Victoria started to stalk out, Max and Chloe still in their sights, when Rachel reached out and grabbed the other girl's arm.

"No!" she hissed. "Give them a five minute head start. We still have the GPS tracker on the car. We'll blow out, and follow them. I gotta give Lethe a call and give him an update. We'll follow along...sooner or later, they've gotta stop for the night somewhere, and we'll figure out a plan from there. We just gotta pray Max hasn't already figured out you bent her mind. I know regular folks won't instinctively make the connection, but not only is she Ms. Freaking All-Powerful, but she's got God-knows what kind of special government training on top of that."

Victoria sighed and glanced over her shoulder. "Fine. Five minutes, huh?" She tapped her lips, and then added. "I'll make a few quick goodbyes to cover for us. Too bad, I was really enjoying the party tonight." She then gave a pleading look. "You sure we can't wait another half hour? I can't wait to see Principal Wells come up and try to explain what the hell is happening with that Everyday Heroes contest, now that Jefferson is prison-bound." She then gave a meaningful look. "I had a win totally in the bag, you know."

Rachel threw up her hands, her body still vibrating with adrenaline, and exhaled in disgust. "Christ, V! Get over it. We get this wrapped up, and we party like millionaires."

"Fine. I'll meet you over at your car in five minutes, okay?"

Nodding, Rachel slowly walked away, making sure to keep her distance from the couple she was stalking. As she entered the parking lot, she glanced out, and saw Chloe's pickup truck already pulling out, and turning onto the road. Clambering into the driver's seat, she closed the door, turned on the engine, turned the radio up extra loud, and then let out an ear-piercing shriek that lasted nearly ten seconds.

She desperately needed to get that out of her system. Frustration alone wasn't enough to explain it away, although God, she was still so pissed with their amateurish first attempt to bring Max in. But no, this was mostly about what she just experienced. She rubbed her arms tight and closed her eyes; a chill passed through her, and she swore that if she didn't know better, she could still feel the universe itself seething at her. Like she'd aroused the attention of a great and terrible demon, previously slumbering, but now stirring awake.

She'd somehow managed to be pulled backwards through Time itself. She had no idea as to the hows or whys. Just that she never wanted to experience anything like that, ever again.

 _...should we be handing her over to the Zaibatsu? I mean really...do they truly understand what it is they're getting themselves into here? This might be the nerves talking, but I'm not even sure Max is really_ human _anymore...not if she's been twisting time around for years now._

A few minutes later, Victoria joined her. She buckled herself in, gave her a hard, long look, which then quickly softened.

"Oh damn...Rambie? You look like shit. I'm...I'm sorry. Are you okay with this? You want me to drive?"

Rachel shook her head. "No...no, thanks. I'm...I'll be alright. It's passing, this whole...getting bitchslapped by the Universe. Believe me, I could use the distraction of just focusing on driving right now."

"Alright." Victoria leaned in, and kissed her cheek, and then her ear, before whispering. "Let's go get them, babe. We'll get it right this time."

She nodded once, in return, and then drove off, to chase after their quarry.

* * *

 _ **A/N:**_ Hey kids! It's Black Swan Friday! Lyta cries all the tears as she finishes the ending of the series, and NQW rushes in with a mop and bucket.

So, for all their various badassery, it seems all the Specials in the room are still teenagers, either not planning ahead properly, or not taking crazy, impulsive chances. Hmmmmm. :-) That said, I did have a fair bit of fun with this chapter. It's fun seeing stuff I plotted out months and months ago...we're talking back in late 2015, finally coming to life.

And yes, as the tagline above implied, I am now **done** writing Black Swan. That is, I finally finished the first full rough draft of the finale on Tuesday. While there is still a shit ton of work for me and **NuQueerWarhead** to do, in terms of her editing, and my polishing and rewriting, and our brainstorming back and forth, there are now no more new chapters for me to actually write. It's all over. As you can imagine, the ending was rather emotional, and I was sobbing a bit as I was writing it. I suppose there's a chance between now and when it gets published that I could change around a bunch of things, but...probably not too much.

So if things continue on the way I expect, it looks like this series will be 42 chapters long. Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy fans are required by law to be amused by this. Also, after talking to a few folks, I've been convinced to take what would have been a 24,000 word final chapter, and break it up into three pieces. My plan is to publish this three-part finale and publish it in a single week every couple of days...like M-W-F, or possibly M-Th-Sun. That should give folks enough to read and enjoy it without having to run a reading marathon.

All this said, there is a chance, given that both my life and NQW's are getting crazy again...there may be a need for a final hiatus around chapter 37 or 39, in order to give us time to finish up getting things ready for publishing. Don't worry, I promise that if we do pause, it will take place at a clean and obvious cliffhanger, so that the plot isn't left hanging in a lurch.

Finally, I'd like to take a moment to recognize that we've unlocked a couple of significant achievements here. As of last week, Black Swan is both the longest (by word count) Life is Strange series on FFNet, as well as the most reviewed! And we still have over 50K in words left to publish.

But I didn't get to this point alone: there was **Corentin IV** and **NuQueerWarhead** my sistah-editrices, who have given so much of their time and talent. This would be a far poorer work without their razor sharp efforts. And there were all of YOU. All of the readers who took the time to read, and review, to fave and to follow, to PM me with your thoughts and feedback and ideas. It's all been tremendously humbling. So I want to take a time to thank you all. Thanks so much! I'm sure in time, after this story concludes, there will be some other epic piece that will come along, and take the crown for its own. But for this one moment here, I would just like to bask with everyone here.

(commences basking in an efficient German manner...)

Oh! And I have to give a shout out to **rowanred81,** the previous holder of both those achievements, who very graciously told me a few weeks ago that she expected me to do so, and would be happy when I did. Praise from Caesarina, instead!

Okay, so enough ego stroking. Join us next week, when Martinet and Davies finally have it out. You won't want to miss this one, folks!


	36. Mind The Gap

**Friday, October 11th 2013**

 **12:01 A.M.**

Camilla found the last few days to be terribly frustrating.

Bad enough that she was trapped on the base, playing these ridiculous games; she'd finally reached her limit with Paul Martinet. Having now come to absolutely despise his political gamesmanship for the express purpose of sinking his claws ever deeper into an organization that she'd spent over half her damn life building, protecting and maintaining. Five years on, and he was still a clumsy, late-to-the-party interloper compared to her!

Bad enough his entire administration was filled with nothing but swaggering bravado, useless saber rattling, and efforts dedicated to intentionally destabilizing a fragile accord that took decades to build, and which he'd never spent more than a few minutes even trying to understand. It wasn't that he was outright evil or cruel for the sake of cruelty: more he was thoughtless and callow. Narrow minded and possessed of tunnel vision almost to the point of blindness. And when he wasn't crafting policies and procedures that completely dehumanized those under his oversight - including and especially poor Max! - he was weaselling around trying to change the rules to suit his agenda.

 _Let's be honest; the situation with the Wayden Amendment reauthorization was absolutely the last straw. It was just a matter of time before he and I had it out for good._

And then there was all this goddamned bloody onerous bureaucracy!

She was never a fan. Granted, there was a need for it. Of course, there had to be rules, a logical and structured order, but it was Camilla's experience that in most government agencies, that order tended to grow into something downright cancerous.

Bureaucracy was at its worst when it could be weaponized, just as Martinet had done. She'd spent the past few days volleying back and forth with the auditors telling her side of any countless numbers of previous missions and encounters, clarifying clarifications, and providing context when context should have been bloody obvious. She and Paul spent the last day conversing only through terse emails, the situation having grown chilly enough to the point where they could no longer stand to physically talk to each other in the same room.

 _Damnit! I should have pushed to be made Director when Robertson retired. I mean actually thrown my hat into the ring, as it were. If Gore was President at the time, they probably have have_ asked _me, outright._

Bad enough she was here when she should be out in the field, leading her team, trying her damndest to make sure Max was safe! Working around the clock to bring her back to…

…to...

...oh bloody hell.

Camilla knew damn well that bringing Max back to Zion Control was never part of the plan.

From the moment her young protégée - through the agency of whatever miracle transported her to New York City - slipped her bonds and gained her precious freedom, Camilla was painfully aware that the situation going forward would teeter on the edge of an incredibly sharp blade. Besides, she had to be here. If the situation was as dire as she now believed, the contingency plan she meant to execute was dependant on certain short-range fail-safe interlocks that required on-site engagement.

She reached underneath her desk, fingers tracing across and then around the heavy, metal object taped underneath. She gripped it, and then pulled down, until she was cradling it in her lap. If her calculations were right - and after more than a quarter-century as one of the smartest women on Earth, they always were - Martinet and his entourage would arrive in the next thirty-eight seconds, give or take three.

Closing her eyes, she let out a slow, controlled breath and reflected back on the conversation she just concluded with Shimiko a minute earlier.

" _I'm...forgive me, Camilla." the Asian woman breathed out. It was clear she was struggling to keep emotion from coloring her voice - compared to herself, Shimiko tended to wear her heart on her sleeve. "It would appear that our security was compromised. Naturally, I ordered a full audit of all procedures as soon as I ascended to position of Chairwoman of the Mitsudaimyo."_

" _Of course you did, dear heart." Camilla murmured affectionately as she spoke into the special communications device encrypting the line between them._

" _You should see what I've had to work with! Far too inefficient and open to exploitation. It's amazing the Zaibatsu weren't co-opted earlier, and…" Shimiko paused, her voice catching in her throat. "I...I wish you could see what we're doing here, Cammie-chan. What we're going to be doing in the days to come. You should be here. We should be doing this together, like we'd always planned."_

" _I know." Camilla breathed out. "Life has a way of making a proper mess of all our fancy plans and desires, Shimmie. You shouldn't - "_

" _It's my fault!" the other woman interrupted, notes of suffering splashing through her otherwise controlled tone. "I should have pushed harder to bring our security up to a proper level, sooner. We managed to take care of the compromised agent, but it's clear that that Martinet has enough. By this point, I can't see how he doesn't strongly suspect Reese's involvement in the current situation."_

" _Pushing harder might have caused the defector in question to turn on you sooner...at completely the wrong time. No point in blaming yourself for any of it." Camilla paused, and then continued. "But yes. I won't even try insulting Martinet's intelligence by insisting I had no idea what was happening, that my intentions for getting Reese transferred to the Red Sun facility in Japan were purely innocent." She sat down at her desk and glanced over at one of her video feeds. Already, the Director was leaving his office, a look of determination intermingled with smug triumph emblazoned across his face. A pair of armed guards flanked him._

" _Shim...there's no more time. He's already coming for me. I know there's so much more we could say, or wish we could do. But there isn't. I'm going to try and make him see reason, but I'm not betting my life that he'll listen. Or rather, I don't believe he'll comprehend. Once I'm gone, I'm counting on you to do the rest. To clean up the mess I'm about to leave in my wake. And...and to please do better - so much better - than the corruption that was the Specials Oversight and Administration Project in its final few years. You'll be queen of the heap by next week."_

 _Camilla could practically feel the lump in Shimiko's throat, as she struggled to keep her voice steady and checked._

" _I - I promise, Camilla."_

" _Oh, and Max. Of course. Promise me, if nothing else, that you'll take care of her. Make sure she's as much protected against whatever greedy elements may exist still inside the Zaibatsu as from the rest of the world. We've done horrific things to that poor girl. I can see that now. There's so many things we can still learn from her, so much good we can do for the world. For the purposes of peace and scientific understanding."_

" _I promise." Shimiko repeated, an edge of passion rising in her voice._

" _For Alexandria." Camilla said, after a few seconds pause. The old Hypatian greeting and farewell._

" _For Alexandria." the other woman replied. Before breathily and mournfully ending with, "K...koishiteru...wa."_

 _At this, Camilla's placid control broke at last, holding back a sob of her own with a monumental effort, before replying with a very soft, "I...I wish we'd had more time, Shim. For ourselves. So we could have...". There was more, but she couldn't bring herself to say the words._

 _Immediately, she severed the connection, and then pressed several buttons, tossing the device into a nearby metal trash can. Seconds later, it burst into sparks, ruining it forever._

She reached up, wiping her eyes, opening them just in time to witness Martinet barge into her office without knocking.

 _Alright then. I suppose it's time to play my part._

She glanced up, narrowing her eyes in frustration and anger. "Excuse _me_ , Director, but are we abandoning any pretense at decorum now? And what is the bloody meaning of _this_?" She smirked, waving a hand towards the guards. "Have things become so tense between us now that we can't speak without an armed chaperone?"

Martinet shook his head once; clearly, he wasn't having any of this. "Chief Field Agent Camilla Davies. As Director of the Specials Oversight and Administration Project, I am hereby relieving you of command of the Damocles Initiative, and placing you under arrest."

With vague, patronizing bemusement, she asked. "Arrest? Grand. What charges have you trumped up this time?"

"Suspicion of treason," he replied, refusing to rise to her bait.

 _He thinks he has all the cards here. Well, I suppose he's got most of them, at any rate. But not the ones that truly matter.  
_

At this, she made herself show the appropriate amount of exasperation, sinking slightly into her chair, then snorting and rolling her eyes. "Oh _really_ now, Paul! Is this how it works? The auditors haven't been able to dig up the dirt you're so desperate to find, so now you have to start abusing your damn authority!? I won't budge a single centimeter from this bloody office until I see an official order signed by the Secretary of Homeland Security himself!"

With no small amount of relish, Martinet reached into his suit jacket and pulled out the printed form. Walking over and slamming it down on her desk with a triumphant flourish, he murmured. "Just came out of the document replicator ten minutes ago. I believe you can verify the authenticity of the holographic seal. You invented the whole process personally, as I recall."

She bowed her head and glanced down at the warrant. It was a total show, of course, as she critically inspected each and every detail with a skeptical eye. But she needed to keep them off-guard for what was about to happen.

Lifting her head back up, she tilted it, smiling thinly. "Well, it certainly seems that everything is in order."

In one smooth, easy motion, she removed her hand from under the desk and held up the grenade as she pulled the pin. The guards immediately leveled their weapons on her.

They did not, however, fire.

But they were clearly unnerved. Glancing back and forth between each other, then to her, and finally to Martinet. Both of them were on the young side, having only recently come on board, if Camilla recalled correctly. No doubt, this would be the first official 'significant security incident' either had dealt with since joining S.O.A.P.

"Excellent work, you two! I distinctly remember the day Alanna gave you your training on how to handle a situation like this. And I'm pleased as punch that you listened, when she drilled it into your head that when a target is holding onto an explosive device rigged to a deadman's switch, you absolutely, positively do not wildly fire at them on reflex. Bravo. Smalls and Frazier, right? Good work. Director, please make sure they get a commendation added to their service records?"

She found the level of alarm - although not outright panic - this revelation produced in Martinet to be quite satisfying.

"What?! What the hell are you playing at, Camilla?!"

"Oh." She started casually. "Well, I think this is, as I explained a moment ago, a high explosive device. Packed with an unhealthy amount of a rather exciting compound I've been working on. The fuse is almost non-existent, so if I let up, it'll go off immediately." She sighed, waiting a few seconds for everything to sink in. "All right. Now look, there's no reason for everyone here to be held hostage. At least be kind enough, Paul? Let these two walk out, and then you come over and take a seat. This is between the two of us, because clearly, we need to have a chat. Believe it or not, there's still a chance we can work this out."

"Sir?" one of the guards inquired with trepidation.

Martinet breathed in hard through his nose a few times, before giving a slight, almost imperceptible nod of his head. "Go. Inform DHS of our current hostage situation." He then sat down, and locked eyes with her. "I'll stay here."

The guards slowly backed away, departing from her office. As they did, Camilla called out, "Please don't be alarmed, but communications are already d...oh hell. They'll figure it out on their own, in a minute." She took a long breath held it for a second, and then let it out, before breaking the ever widening silence stretching out between them.

"Oh Paul, you seem so glum." she said, breezily motioning with her closed fist, the one wrapped around the grenade. "Really, I somehow imagined you'd be much happier on a day like today. You'd been looking for something to hold over me for years, and now you've got it. No strident, triumphant declarations, no swagger and bravado for how I won't get away with this? I won't bother asking how you put it all together, because I know enough at this point to fill in the gaps myself. I mean, I know about that secret little black ops party of yours, the one you thought you successfully kept hidden, so I imagine that helped."

Marinet reacted with at least some surprise, his eyebrows darting up. But after a pause, he replied "This is no laughing matter." His voice was tight, his eyes narrowing in anger. "I'd like to understand how the hell you could turn your back and betray every principle, every oath you swore to an organization that you've spent over half your life serving! I know we've had, to put it lightly, major disagreements and differences of opinion...but did she really mean that much to you?" He leaned in. "Is Max Caulfield's personal happiness more important than that of millions, or billions of others in the world? More than everyone in New York City?"

At this, her joviality immediately ceased, and Camilla felt a dark anger creep over her features. "She was a thirteen year old girl, Paul." She locked eyes on his, boring intently with her gaze, her voice taking on a razor's edge of steel. " A girl who begged you point blank, on the day you kidnapped her from everything she ever knew, not to hurt her parents. And you bloody well did it anyhow, damn you. And then you proceeded to dehumanize the utter hell out of her! I know you so enjoy playing ethical calculus, trading the weight of one life against another, but if we don't treat one person with basic respect and dignity, how difficult is it to start pushing your boundaries outward? When does 'I'd sacrifice one person, but never ten.' suddenly become 'I'd sacrifice a million people, but never a billion.'?"

With barely a moment's thought, Martinet replied, "You remained a part of this organization the whole time. If what I did so offended your delicate sensibilities, why didn't you just resign?"

She snorted derisively, "Please! And leave her completely unguarded, to face your tender mercies alone? To leave so many others vulnerable as well? Rodriguez, Villanova...Reese?" She shook her head. "I suppose I _was_ naive though, in thinking you'd eventually change. It's amazing, you know? Five years ago when you first started, I quickly came to dislike you, but I thought most of your issues were simply borne out of ignorance. That you'd eventually come to your senses, and that time and experience here in the realities of this organization would soften the worst edges of your neo-conservative sensibilities."

She poked down hard on her desk with a finger to emphasize her next statement, "Robertson. That man was a bastard, but he had more nuance in his ring finger than you will ever possess in your whole body. We disagreed on any number of things, but at the end of the day, I know bloody well that even he would pause, long and hard, at the notion of forcing a child into a program specifically tailored towards turning her into a weapon! I just...I spent so much time hoping I could get you to see reason. Obviously, I lost myself along the way." She started to bite at her bottom lip, "I was so blinded by optimism, by the notion that after fifteen years I could keep my own agenda, and the agenda of this organization relatively in sync." She shook her head in frustration, and then groaned. "Oh God, you really mucked up so much of what I was trying to accomplish. The whole bloody lot of it!"

Martinet tilted his head; the look on his face bespoke of any number of questions he wanted to ask, or snide pronouncements to lay down. It was clear that her last statement caught his attention. "Now what, exactly, is that supposed to mean?"

Leaning back in her chair, Camilla steepled her fingers together, cradling the grenade between her hands. "Right. Might as well tell you the story now, yes? I highly doubt either of us will get a chance to repeat it." She quietly gathered her thoughts together, before launching into her explanation, "You may recall, in late 1996, the UN Secret Council on Empowered Beings met to hammer out the latest version of the Shadow-Seven Accords. I was still head of research and development then, winding down from Project Opticon, so the Director at the time, woman named Finster, if I remember correctly, brought me along as an advisor. What most others don't know is that the Children of Hypatia took advantage of the gathering of so many Specials organizations in one place to call for their own - hmmm - shall we say 'shadow gathering'. It took a lot of delicate negotiation, and every bloody Null people could rope into the affair, but they managed to cobble together their own secret convention; temporarily neutral territory where representatives of every governmental and extralegal group could find common ground, with the goal of finding a way to lay down the decades of distrust and political chess games, and work towards a truly unified and global organization - even if its existence was only unofficial - that could help influence the world towards more a positive and egalitarian mindset.

"You went, of course." Martinet said, with a dismissive roll of his eyes. "Did you sneak out on your own, or did Finster send you?"

"Oh, she knew, she knew. Unlike you, she knew to trust my judgement, and I felt it was a valuable opportunity to gather real intelligence, as opposed to the kabuki the UN would be putting on for everyone. Certainly, the Hypatians were never a real threat; even before this convention, I had a kind of respect for them. Their stated mission of pure research, the acquisition of knowledge for its own sake, the dedication to protecting and preserving science, art, literature, medicine...all planning for the day where mankind might fall into a new dark age. But the whole weekend was essentially a wasted affair." Camilla gently shook her head, glancing down at her desk. "A lot of lovely speeches about bringing forth a new era of cooperation and peace, free from the strictures and agendas of the UN as a whole, or any one particular government. But even at age twenty, I knew enough to see it wouldn't last, or even actually take root. However, I did make the acquaintance of a lovely young woman from Japan, not much older than I was."

"Doctor Tetsumaru." Martinet said.

"Shimiko. Yes. I was absolutely thrilled, just giddy with joy, to meet someone so utterly like myself, for the first time in my life. Suffice it to say, we struck up an instant friendship, and promised to stay in close contact."

Instant friendship failed to impart the full depth of the relationship forged that weekend. There was more, far more. For the first time in her life, Camilla finally encountered someone else who could keep up with her, with the racing speed of her mind, and exactly how she perceived the world; the endless ideas that consumed them both. But it was so much more than that: as brilliant as she was, Shimiko was possessed of social style, grace and suavity that Camilla herself, ever the gawky and self-conscious teen at the time, painfully lacked.

Camilla, as inexperienced and unprepared as she was in those days, as totally uncertain of her sexuality, and still a virgin, fell hard. And yet, after their first time being intimate together, she was so overwhelmed that she felt the need to put some emotional distance between the two of them. Theirs had been an on again - off again affair, though they never could break free of each other's orbit...nor did they want to. Above all else, Camilla was keenly aware of how much that weekend, and Shimiko's influence, contributed to forging her into the woman she was today.

"So you two decided to join the Hypatians and take over the world together. Was that it? You thought you knew so much better than us mere mortals?" Martinet said in a snide tone of voice.

"Oh for God's sake, Paul, even you know me better than that, by now." she angrily chided. "In the beginning, it was such a simple little thing. We kept in touch, we worked on our own joint projects, we made a vow to influence the respective organizations we worked for. Working to guide them towards a path of scientific progress and inquiry, improving the world for the benefit of all. It was easier, back in those days, when S.O.A.P. still fell largely under the jurisdiction of Health and Human Services, and we were more concerned with scientific research and development than peacekeeping and military applications. But things suddenly changed. I'm sure I don't have to remind you why.

"I suppose not." Martinet said, chuckling unkindly. He then glanced up over at her shelf. "Will you kill us both up if I just go over and get a drink? I think I'd like at least one shot in me before I hear whatever other nonsense is coming up next."

"Noooo. You go right ahead. Bring a couple of glasses back, would you?"

Martinet rose up, smooth and slow. With equal deliberation, he walked over and grabbed a decanter of scotch and two tumblers. Camilla watched him like a hawk, holding up the grenade the whole time, as if it were a protective talisman whose powers she might need to draw upon at a moment's notice. Returning to her desk, Martinet poured them both half a tumbler of amber liquid.

Camilla mused, "Well then. Don't believe we've ever actually shared a drink together before. Oh, don't get me wrong, I've never wanted the pleasure, but it at least bears mention." She took a pull from her glass, watched as he slammed most of his back. "So let me ask you a question then: Why do you think the Cold War finally ended?"

He paused, clearly caught by surprise at this. He refilled his glass, and swirled the contents around, staring into it before looking back at her and asking. "How the hell am I supposed to answer that question, Camilla?"

"It's not a great trick. All those decades, and at the point near the end when some of the most dangerous hardliners were in charge of both our respective powers, real progress was suddenly made. Do you know why? An honest answer is all that I require."

"I see." Martinet took a more measured pull of his drink, and answered, "I suppose - and by the way, I'm finding all of this fucking petty and childish of you, pointless to the extreme - but I always believed it was because of the strength and moral clarity of the people you derisively look down your nose at as 'hardliners'. Reagan, for instance. He never backed down. He understood what the Soviet Union represented, and had no qualms or cold feet in calling them out. Once they understood who it was they were up against, the lengths he was willing to go to oppose the 'Evil Empire', it caused the Soviets to finally back down and sue for peace."

"Oooooh...that's…" Camilla blew a stream of air upwards, ruffling her platinum blonde bangs. "...one part of it. I suppose...to be fair." She straightened up slightly, giving a light laugh. "God, it's true what they say, isn't it? About history being written by the winners. But I'm afraid you left out a large part: it was actually Reagan's willingness to back down and compromise under the appropriate circumstances that made the difference."

"Bullshit." Martinet reflexively responded.

"History." she said in retort. "In the early Eighties, the world came frighteningly close to nuclear war, about as close as the Cuban Missile Crisis. With Andropov - hard as nails and just as paranoid - in charge of the Soviet Union and Reagan riding a conservative wave to power, the threat that someone was going to go off half cocked, thinking they had to make a pre-emptive strike grew to dangerous levels. By 1983, the Soviet Union began drawing up serious plans to actually launch one, having critically misunderstood the purpose of NATO's Able Archer 83 exercise. It also didn't help that the Russians had just spent the last two years beforehand anticipating such an attack from the US."

She sipped her drink again, and continued, "But one man, a KGB double-agent working in British Intelligence named Oleg Gordievski couldn't stand it any more. He broke his cover, for the sole purpose of gaining an audience with President Reagan. Gordievski effectively begged him to tone his rhetoric done. He also informed the President that Mikhail Gorbachev, who himself had been secretly working for years behind the backs of Russian leaders to lay the groundwork for more western style reforms, would soon be coming to power. And Reagan, to his credit, had the foresight and wisdom to appreciate Gordievski's sacrifice. Even though he'd still end up pursuing nonsense like the Strategic Defense Initiative, he finally sat down at the peace table and talked to the Russians. No, he didn't give away the store. Yes, he stridently made demands, such as tearing down the Berlin Wall. But gone were the days of "The bombing begins in five minutes." and instead he began talking about "My good friend Mikhail." Granted, for his willingness to work with the Soviets, his own political party excoriated him, called him a traitor. Not that it stopped those same people from elevating him to sainthood after the Soviet Union fell apart."

Finishing off what was in his glass, Martinet winced, placed it down on the desk, and asked, "Is this going somewhere, Camilla? Anywhere? Or are you just so in love with the sound of your own damn voice…"

She angrily interrupted him, "My point is: Yes, I have been something of a double agent myself! For years, I've stayed in this organization, struggling to keep it on a purer, and more noble path! And for years, I've watched those efforts bear limited fruit at best. But now, it seems that Incident 34 has become our own Able Archer 83." She held out her hands, in a pleading gesture, as she emphasized the first five words of her next statement. "This has to stop, Paul. You see the same intelligence reports I do. You're scaring the hell out of the rest of the world, at least the part that's aware of the existence of Specials. Certainly, Shimiko has become far more strident in the last couple of years, feeling that she had no choice but to acquire more and more power and influence, as she's watched you tie up the Chinese and the Russians in fits of panic. But the Zaibatsu? Under her direct leadership and guidance? They won't make the same mistakes. And while I don't think she relishes a fight, I know her well enough to be certain she has the stomach for it. But only if _you_ force the issue!"

She swallowed, her voice softening, as she quietly added, "I'm asking you now: please stand down, and meet with them. Find a way for our two groups, as the only 'Specials Superpowers' left, to work together. Because I will tell you right now, we got very lucky in New York City. Had I not managed to contain the quantum inversion event when it built up to full strength, it could have more permanently damaged the fabric of space and time over a much wider area. Certainly, it would have shown everyone in Manhattan what it looks like to die in a nuclear disaster, so I'm sure you can imagine the public nightmare we barely avoided. Moral issues aside with the things you've done to Max - none of which I think I can ever forgive you for - there's the problems created by your strengthening her powers far past their natural limits. I can see that now. I fear we've created something far more powerful than we intended. Or can readily contain. We can't do this alone anymore."

She clenched her jaw, and concluded. "So that's alll of it. Yes, making sure that Max has a better shot, away from you, away from what S.O.A.P. has become was just a part of it. But this is about so much more. About growing the hell up, and working together for what's best for this planet. What happens from here is entirely in your hands."

They stared at each other for a long, silent while. A silence that was broken by the stifled laughter of Martinet. He quickly brought himself under control as best he could before speaking.

"Ridiculous. Listen to yourself! All these years you've played some sort of...of game! Feeding intelligence to a woman who's clearly been manipulating you this whole time with utopian dreams, while stroking your ego and soothing your conscience. Oh believe me, I'm aware of your relationship with her, it's been one of the worst kept secrets in this organization. She's been using you this whole time, Camilla! I can't believe I didn't see it earlier." He rose up, and began pacing back and forth, agitated. "Clearly, she wanted Caulfield from the beginning, and now you've tried to deliver Max up to her on a silver platter."

He sat back down in a huff. "Well, you go right ahead, you let go of that trigger,and blow us up to hell - not that I think you have the guts! - because I am not about to buy into any of this bullshit you're selling. Not when we're obviously so close to securing our supremacy! With or without me, this organization will continue on, long after they've scraped what's left of us off the walls of this office. Wright and her team are already positioned to bring Max back in. Another day or two, not only will they have secured her, but potentially several Zaibatsu assets for good measure. Someone else will take my place. And all you'll have done is make my point for me, about how dangerous Specials are compared to normal humans! This organization may be weaker for our losses, but that won't last long. Our key assets will remain in place. All of this was for nothing, Camilla. You've lost!"

Camilla bowed her head. She'd failed. That much was clear. Not that she had high hopes of success but…

 _...one can always dream._

"That, I'm afraid, is where you're very wrong." she said in a soft voice, the tone rising up as she explained, "When I'm gone, my death will be detected by the internal scanners. Years ago, when we were constructing PAN-Opticon, I developed a hardwired failsafe system. The idea was to completely destroy the sensor grid in the event it was about to fall into the wrong hands. I can see now that it's been in the wrong hands for years. So I've tied the trigger mechanism into my own vital signs." She slapped her empty hand on the desk. "This face off, between you and me? It's been coming for such a long time. It just took something like New York to finally force it out to the surface. So no. I'm sorry, but when you and I are gone, so goes one of the premier Specials tracking and analysis systems ever devised. It will take years for the US Government to even come close to replacing it. And after Shimiko's strike teams wipe out S.O.A.P.'s secondary storage sites with all of the key data this organization has collected over the years, it will be back to square one. I'm afraid at that point, all I have left is my faith that Shimiko will guide her organization with far more wisdom and dignity than you have led your own."

The look on Martinet's face showed the difficulty he was having processing the information. Disbelief, giving way to fury, before settling into a long, burning seething hatred. Clearly not willing to give Camilla any satisfaction in her moment of bitterly pyrrhic triumph, he hissed through gritted teeth. "Get on with it, then!"

Breathing in deep through her nose, she nodded once. "Shame. The gap between us. This gulf we can't seem to bridge. No point in drawing out, I suppose. Well, as they say in the Underground, 'mind the gap'."

She lifted her hand and casually dropped the grenade onto the desk, where it landed with a heavy metallic thud.

The seconds ticked away, and she looked over at Martinet, eyes closed as he braced himself for the end. Five seconds turned to ten. And then he opened one eye, glanced at her, and roared in frustration, as he took note of the thin, almost imperceptible smile of defiance she gave him.

He started to open his mouth to say something.

The massive explosion that followed rudely interrupted him.

* * *

 _ **A/N:**_ Hey kids, it's Black Swan Friday. Lyta says "Banng!" and NQW says, "Too many n's." :)

So...I guess that's a mic drop no one is going to top, huh?

This is a complicated chapter for me. First off, writing it, and getting as close to the ending as I was at the time, it really made me focus not only where I felt Black Swan was succeeding, but where it failed or at least fell short. I never really intended to tell a really in-depth spy story...it was hard for this series, paralleling the game as it does, to not still be a bit more Donnie Darko, and less Mission Impossible. I never really intended to get quite into the world building that I did in the first 12 chapters, not at first, but there it is. I'm just sorry I never utilized those sets and characters to fuller effect, once all was said and done.

Still, I have an idea or two for a possible sequel, so maybe that will change.

Also, this was clearly a very political chapter. I say I don't like to get too political, and yet it keeps showing up in my work. There are similar themes in my first ME series, Once More Unto The Breach, and even Grande Dame has a somewhat utopian political bent to it. Still, I try not to get too unbalanced or biased, but I know I don't always succeed. A now-former reader of this series once gave me a particularly long and unhappy private critique before they stopped, and one of the things they strongly implied was how much they disliked the political tone of the series. So it goes.

That said, a lot of the historical facts that Cammie brings up actually did happen; Andropov was a bastard, Reagan was a bastard, and 1983 did see the world come super-close to nuclear war. Gordievski actually did break his cover in order to beg Reagan not to push the button, and as much as I otherwise despise the man, to his very great credit, there was a significantly marked difference in the tone and tenor in his dealings with the Russians between his first and second terms. Newt Gingrich gave Reagan public hell for sitting down with Gorbachev...and poor Gorbachev will never get all the credit he deserves in the end. Anyhow, it's fascinating history (to me at least) and it's interesting how few people seem to know it anymore. Anything beyond those facts are mere opinion.

Finally, there is no way I can't touch on the tragedy of what happened in Orlando this past weekend. It hit especially close to home, I'm afraid. I knew the bouncer who was killed. KJ was the best friend of a good friend of mine, and she briefly introduced us a few times. The local community here is really feeling her loss...she was a well known member, before she headed off to Hawaii to be closer with her family, and then ultimately moving to Florida a couple months ago.

I don't want to make this a long, overwrought rant, with any political calls, other than to say: I just want the world to stop being so terrible to other people who are unlike them. I want politicians to start taking responsibility for how their words and their laws create an environment that makes shit like this more likely. Don't give us your damn prayers, tell us how you're going to keep it from happening again in the future.

Anyhow, have a good weekend, folks.


	37. Vulnerable Positions

_Max bows her head and turns it away. She doesn't want to look at what has been lurking in the shadows. In the beginning, it was easiest to simply ignore it, to make herself blind and ignorant in order to avoid the pain that acknowledging the truth would cause._

 _All of that is changing now; the protective shell is finally cracking._

 _As far as she can tell, she's in a basement somewhere. She can feel the dampness, smell the mildew, sense the closed, tight quarters through her peripheral vision. But her actual eyesight is less than co-operative. There's something out there, but it's blurry and indistinct. Her vision slides off of it when she briefly tries to turn and face directly ahead; Max, absolutely scared of the truth, has been more than happy to allow it to happen._

 _Slim, soft hands grip her shoulders from behind. She knows them, and the voice they belong to._

" _It's alright, poppet." the voice says, in a tone that brims with maternal affection. "I know it's difficult. That it feels like absolutely the last thing you want to face. But the end is coming soon, and I believe you'll regret it if you don't at least try to make the effort."_

" _Hǎo tòng! Hǎo tòng!" a boy cries out, from what sounds like a million miles away and right next to her ear._

 _Her heart pounds hard, enough that she can feel it in her mouth. She grips her upper arm, rubbing it nervously._

" _You almost stumbled over the truth in the junkyard. But you were more concerned with the problems of the living...and why not? The dead are dead. They don't have any particular wants or needs. The money and the time that we spend, with funerals and rituals, pageantry and pomp. It's only purpose is to comfort the living and convince them that there's more to death than the cessation of life."_

" _This is more for your knowing," the voice adds. "For your benefit, than anything else."_

 _Max tries again to turn her head forward. It's like moving through molasses; a palpable resistance fights her, every inch of the way. Fights her twice as hard as she struggles to fully open her eyes._

" _Try to focus. I know that it's difficult, doubly so in a dream, but do give it your best attempt, Max."_

 _Her eyes betray her, refusing to focus on what lies beyond, framed as it is in a single shaft of light, like a museum exhibit. She pushes her way through the resistance, determined at last to get close enough to make out the details. A thrumming builds up in her ears: so many voices. Too many! A hundred thousand million billion, all saying the same thing, but in completely different ways. Her heart pounds, harder and harder still, the panic rising up in her throat, sweeping over her scalp and making her jaw chatter._

 _The other voice is distant now, as Max successfully walks away from it, towards where she needs to be._

" _That's it, love. Taking those first few steps is the hardest part. But then it gets easier past a certain point."_

 _And it does. The resistance lessens, and suddenly it's more like trying to move through a pool, and then like an especially breezy day. It gets easier to breathe, easier to think. She's walking and then she's running. It takes a lot longer than it should, but she's making headway all the same._

 _So close. Almost there._

 _As last, she's able to see what's been waiting for her this whole time._

 _...it's herself. Literally. She's there, frozen in time, in the beam of light. Dressed in full Damocles regalia, she's kneeling down on the ground. The expression of grief etched into her face is heartbreaking. She's holding a small boy, maybe eight or ten from the looks of him. Chinese probably, or at least Asian. He's sprawled out across her lap, head cradled in one of her arms, legs draped across the other, like an old Italian_ pieta _. He could almost be sleeping, his jaw slack and open, his eyes shut._

 _There's a hole in his forehead, dark and bleeding. More blood dripping out from the back of his head._

" _S-sorry." Max's voice chokes out, thick and heavy with regret. She kneels down in turn, becoming a near-mirror image of the scene in front of her._

" _S-s-sorry!" she starts to sob, as the full weight of what she's done seeps its way into her consciousness._

 _A man's voice whispers against her ear. "I understand that was a difficult thing for you, but I'm glad to see you made the right choice when it counted the most."_

 _She shakes her head, denying the truth of the words._

" _Several million New Yorkers owe their lives to you." he adds._

 _Again she denies it, shaking her head more emphatically in response._

 _The boy...he was calling out for his mother, wasn't he? At the end? Just like she might have, if their situation was reversed. He died, only wanting the safety and comfort of his family. Something she herself had been denied all these years._

 _She was the victim then. But now? She's every bit the monster that she lived in fear of._

 _It's more than she can bear. She bolts upright and runs away, gripping at her temples as she sobs. She runs past the woman from before, who calls out in response, as everything fades to white…_

" _...well, I suppose that will have to do. A pity there wasn't more time."_

* * *

 **Friday, October 11th.  
** **7:30 A.M.**

Gasping, as if swimming upwards until finally breaking the surface of an ice-cold lake, Max's eyes flew open. She didn't immediately recognize where she was; the room was small, with cheap, tacky floral print wallpaper peeling from the walls, stains marking the ceiling, and a hunter green carpet whose only purpose was reminding any occupants why the seventies were not renowned for the timeless quality of its interior decorating sensibilities. There was a tiny TV chained to a table, and something that laughably passed as a desk, clearly bought third hand from a fire sale.

She struggled against the heavy canvas of a military sleeping bag, dressed in only her underwear and vaguely wondering why she wasn't actually sleeping under the covers. Instinctively, she reached under her pillow, calmed by the heavy feel of the pistol against her hand. Her fingers began to curl around it when she was jolted by a voice right next to her.

"Max? Baby?"

It was only then that she realized she wasn't alone! Someone else was in the bed with her! Someone with blue hair and tattoos and…

...oh.

Oh God.

 _It's...it's Chloe. Of course it's her. Get a hold of yourself!_

She closed her eyes tight, as everything came back to her. After the dance, they'd driven on for a good two or three hours, but their excited plans about pulling an all nighter fell apart when it became clear they were exhausted and needed a better night's sleep then they'd gotten the previous evening. They made it as far as just over the border into Washington, eschewing the major highways for the backwoods routes. A little after midnight, they spotted a motel, the only one of it's kind for miles around. Chloe went in alone to check it out; they took cash and didn't ask many questions or even for ID, so it was a good place for them to rest.

It was also as run down and depressingly out of date as their thirty dollars for the night promised.

" _Oh God...at least the bed is clean. I hope?" Max remarked._

" _Dunno, babe. That thing could be hella crawling with bedbugs. Think I'm gonna drag my sleeping bag out from the trunk. Then we only have to sleep on top." Chloe added._

"Hon. Are you okay?" Chloe asked again. As she fully came to her senses, Max nodded a few times in rapid succession.

"Y-yeah," she breathed out. "Sorry. Oh...shit." She leaned in, wrapping her arms hard around Chloe and breathing in the comforting scent of her skin.

"What happened?" the blunette asked sleepily. "Bad dream?"

Taking a long, shaky breath, Max said, "No. I mean...yeah. Bad dream, but it was more than just that. Shit's starting to come back to me, Chloe. From New York. You know how when you first found me, I had this gap in my memory? About my mission?"

Chloe nodded as she listened attentively. A soft smile broke out on her lips. "You mean a million years ago?" she said, adding a tight, affectionate squeeze. A tiny smile creased Max's lips, despite the feelings of panic running through her brain. Her girlfriend had a point: it truly felt like a different life back then, for both of them.

"I remember now, what happened. At-at least I think I do." Max said in a halting manner. "What I did, in order to save all those people." She swallowed hard, burrowing her head against the crook of Chloe's neck. "Oh God, Che. I'm scared. I'm really fucking scared right now."

Chloe shhhhed soothingly, petting her back and stroking her hair. "It's alright now, baby. I promise. It's over. Nothing that happened back there can hurt you now. I won't let it."

"But that's the problem. I'm scared to tell you. I'm freaking out right now, that if I say the words, if I explain what I did, you'll think I'm a monster! You'll…" she sniffled, choking back a sob, as tears forced their way up into her eyes. "...stop...being with me."

To her credit, Chloe didn't try to lighten the mood. She didn't try to brush the serious vibe of the moment aside. She only cupped her cheeks, looked deep into her eyes and said, "Not gonna happen, Max. You are literally the only woman in this world for me. There is nothing at all you can do that would change how I feel about you."

They both shared another shy smile. The spark of joy that crackled in Max's heart quickly fizzled out as she whispered, "Chloe. I think I killed someone. Like...a kid. I think he was about to do something. Emerge, probably. You know, get his own powers? But it was going to destroy New York City in the process. There was yelling, and shouting, and threats, and I was…" She struggled to hold on, her body shaking, the sobs wracking her chest as she pushed herself to continue. It came out, quicker and quicker, as she pushed herself to finish. "...I was all alone, Chloe! I know that much! And I was scared, soooo fucking scared! I was gonna die. I was absolutely sure of it! And there was someone yelling at me, multiple people yelling at me, telling me what to do. Kill the kid, don't kill the kid. Something inside me snapped and took over. I don't remember anything after that!"

She couldn't stand to explain any further. Every single word brought her back to that place. Back to the existential fear, to the state of being where her brain fuzzed, and she threatened to lose control of herself.

She cracked again, failing to realize she was sobbing hysterically now.

"I'm a murderer, Chloe! Oh God! I killed some little kid! I didn't want to! But I did it! Look what they've turned me into...I'm a monster now! How can you possibly still want to be with…?"

"Max! Max!" Chloe pleaded, hugging her tight and covering her face with kisses. "It's not your fault! Whatever this was, it's not your fault! I don't know what happened, but I _know_ you. You're not some cold-blooded assassin! You're...so damn kind. You want to help everyone...and be a hero, and I love that about you. I don't care what you think. The fact that this fucked you up so bad that you suppressed it, and it's making you freak like this now…" She reached up, wiping her face. "Monsters don't cry, Maxima. Okay? You understand what I'm saying? Monsters don't kill people, and then cry about it. And I promise, whatever happens, I will never leave you. You're not alone. You'll never be alone again!"

They held each other close, as Max stared out over Chloe's shoulder, at the tatty and worn furniture. She let her sobs slowly die off, as the worst of her panic and anxiety slowly but inevitably bled away in the calm and warming strength of her girlfriend's supportive presence.

"I'm….I'm okay now. I think...I'm getting there…" Max shook her head and exclaimed, "Oh. God. Imagine if I'd gotten hit with this shit today...all by myself."

Chloe murmured, "Maybe your mind is letting it bubble up because it knows it's safe now." She kissed at her hair, adding, "You don't always have to be a badass. Not anymore."

Max nodded, smiling with relief as she whispered, "I know. Thank you. I'm...I'm doing better now. I mean...I'm still gonna need to get a grip on this, but it doesn't feel like it's dragging me down to the bottom anymore. Oh Christ….Chloe." She pulled back, her gaze sliding easily onto the blunette's. Allowing herself to drown in those crystal pools, Max reached around, pulling gently at strands of blue and violet hair. What happened next was instinct, but she didn't regret it, or think to take it back after it was said.

"Chloe, I love you."

Chloe blinked, as her cheeks flushed red.

"I love you." Max repeated. "I always have. You know...at first sight? Sounds stupid, but it's true. Since the day I met you, when you were this tomboy who bounced into my life and saved my favorite doll, I've loved you. Right from the start." She leaned in, their mouths fitting together perfectly as they kissed; it was a soft thing that quickly developed a passionate edge to it.

"Not fair." Chloe hissed back when the kiss ended. "I didn't get to say it first."

"You did, just not with words. Who was the one who took the first step at the fair? If that doesn't say I love you, I don't know what else does. Doesn't matter though. We have the rest of our lives to remind each other. Every day."

Max took another long, deep breath, the last of her morning demons chased away. She smirked, feeling a playful leg pushing between her thighs. "Chloooe? Whatcha thiiinking?"

"Me? Ohh. Not much. Just...you know. I know we're all supposed to be desperately on the run, but you think we got time for just a teeny bit of sex? And maybe a shower? Then we run like the fucking wind, I swear."

Glancing over suspiciously at the bathroom, Max murmured, "Do we really wanna chance a shower _here_?"

"It's still water...water's always wet. Dunno about the towels…" Chloe's lips began insistently trailing down her neck and collarbone, causing the heat to flare hungrily between her legs. "Besides, I don't think the water's the only thing that's wet right now."

Max laughed, smacking Chloe on the side. Not that she was wrong.

* * *

The towels, as it turned out, were surprisingly clean, and both Max and Chloe took the opportunity to share a quick shower.

"So what's the plan today, boss?" Chloe asked. Max closed her eyes, smiling happily as long fingers stroked her back and shoulders, washing them. She was doing her best to resist making this morning a repeat of yesterdays.

"We run. We find somewhere to stock up on food, in order to minimize spending time in restaurants. Stick to campgrounds and cheap hotels. Places where they don't ask a lot of questions and take cash. Sooner than later, we're going to need to consider ditching the truck and going on foot. I might be able to extend that time out by stealing someone else's plates, but that gets risky. All we need is one cop who decides to run them through his computer, and we're fucked...although my time powers should always give us enough of a heads up to avoid those problems. And...maybe we should grab some dye, and color our hair again...

She then gave a long, measured sigh. "Beyond that? I don't know. I'll...I'll figure it out, I promise. Our best bet is probably finding someplace on the Canadian border, where we can cross by foot in the middle of the night. And then keep pushing north until we make it into the middle of nowhere. Like, in the Yukon or something.

"Sounds like a plan. You know this shit a lot better than me, babydoll."

Max swallowed. She didn't have a plan, not really. Other than keep running. Hoping she'd figure something out along the way. She and Chloe could find somewhere out in the wilderness. A tiny village where people didn't ask too many questions of strangers who kept to themselves. Maybe they could find work. It wouldn't be easy, sure as hell wouldn't be 'fun'. But they'd have each other. They'd have fresh air, and freedom at the very least.

 _We'll make it work. I know we will! We can do anything together._

Chloe added, "Oh! And we can figure out our new fake names on the drive today. How 'bout...uh...I'll be Thelma. And you be Louise."

Max giggled, rinsing her hair out one last time. "That's kinda obvious, don't you think?"

"Xena and Gabrielle?"

Giving Chloe a playful punch on the shoulder, then softening the blow with a kiss, Max stepped out, grabbing a towel for each of them. "C'mon, lover. We need to wrap it up." The blunette let out a mournful wail in response as she turned the shower off. A few more quick kisses were traded as they wrapped the towels around themselves. Max looked over her shoulder as she reached out to open the bathroom door. "It's almost nine-thirty! We gotta get dressed and hit the road."

"Awesome idea," another voice said.

Someone else was in the room, standing six feet away, with a Beretta pointed at the both of them. "But we should probably have a chit chat first, about where we're going today."

Max's head whipped around, a surge of adrenalin coursing through her body. Out in the bedroom was Victoria Chase, who was standing back and just slightly to the left of some other girl - the one holding the gun - whom she barely recognized from last night. Under normal circumstances, options would immediately run through Max's mind. Analyzing the situation. Taking a guess at her best chances to disarm her opponent, how to use the environment to her advantage. Except now there was a big complication: how to keep Chloe from getting involved in the fight.

 _The safest bet is to just go back in time. Forget the fucking shower and tell Chloe we need to get the hell out of here. Now!_

There were questions, of course:,how did these two teenagers track them all the way out here, and why were they now holding them at gunpoint? But the need for those answers wasn't burning; Max would be more than happy to remain completely in the dark as she ran away.

That was when she realized something horrific: she couldn't rewind back. Somehow, she was being nulled.

"R-Rachel? Rachel Amber?!"

Chloe sputtered in absolute disbelief. "What the fuck are you….why is…? What the hell is going on!?"

Max quickly peered behind her. She could see it written all over her girlfriend's face; she was ready to lunge forward at Rachel, gun be damned. Max reached back with an arm, as if waving her off from the attempt.

Rachel gave a delicate sigh, "Hey, C. Wow. I can't believe we have to have this conversation all over again. And under such shitty circumstances, too. You really don't remember you and me talking in the locker room last night? Or uh...when you got into a uberbrawl with Tori?"

"Hey! Don't go dragging me into shit I never did!" Victoria complained.

The blunette's eyes bugged out, her jaw dropping. "Wha- what the hell are you talking about!? The last time I heard from you, you gave me the Total Bitch treatment and cut me out of your life! And now, you...you're….Jesus fuck, I am gonna hella freak here in a moment!"

"You...can't know _any_ of those things." Max nearly whispered. All the blood drained from her face. Her vision swam for a moment. The situation was getting rapidly out of hand.

"Yeah. But I do!" Rachel sang. "And believe me, it wasn't fun getting dragged back into a new timeline with you." She tilted her head quizzically and asked, "Does it hurt you, when you change time? I mean, if it does, how are you not just totes crazy by now? Uh, anyhow." She glanced back to Chloe and said, "Long story short: We saw you both at the dance last night. You and I talked. I apologized a whole ton for the shitty way I treated you, and said I was going to pay off Frank and - ah! Fuckfuckfuck!"

Rachel let out a loud groan of frustration. "We were supposed to meet him at the Two Whales over an hour ago! 'Course, that was before we had to chase after you two and...ugh." Her shoulders lowered. "Screw him. Screw him...right, Chloe? I heard what that asshole did to you. I was gonna pay him off so you didn't have to, but I think after today, none of us are ever gonna see him again. So let's just agree that Frank doesn't get a goddamn cent from anyone, right? Anyhow, Victoria made a mess of it when she used her ability to snag Max, 'cause it kinda sorta looked like maybe they were about to make out..."

"Jesus Christ, stop talking about shit that didn't even….ugh!" Victoria roared out in frustration.

"I love you too, Honey Bear." Rachel said, turning to regard her partner with a playful smirk on her lips. She then turned back and continued, "But the long and short of it is that Max freaked out enough to rewind back from the point where you and V threw down. After I told her what happened, we waited until you guys left Blackwell, then followed you here thanks to a GPS tracker we sorta 'convinced' your stepdad to plant on your truck. Then Victoria sorta 'convinced' the innkeeper to give us a room - along with a key to yours - and promptly forget that he saw any of us. After that, it was just a matter of catching up on our z's, and waiting to strike when the two of you were in an appropriately vulnerable position."

"Oh, and you're welcome, by the way." Victoria said with a sneer as she crossed her arms. "That we didn't burst in during...you know..." At this, she began to pant, her voice high and breathy. "Oh! Oh God! Chloe! You….yoooou are….the fucking best!" Critically studying a handful of nails, she muttered. "Bet you half the motel heard it, too."

Max could practically smell Chloe's brain short circuiting, overloaded as it was with too many conflicting impulses. She then took a step back, wrapping a protective arm around her girlfriend. Jumping right in, she said, "Let's cut to the chase here, because I only care about one fucking thing. Obviously, you're both Specials..."

Max paused, fighting back the nearly overwhelming urge to point and yell and scream at Victoria because how _dare_ she violate her like that!? It was all so obvious now. She must have used some sort of hypnotic power on her last night, and where the fuck did she get off doing that to her?!

 _Choke it back, Max. Hold it in check! You need to get through this shit first. Gotta see exactly what kind of trouble you're in._

"Obviously." Victoria said, as she rolled her eyes.

"Are you with the Feds? Or are you working for them? Like, are you bounty hunters looking to cash in?"

The air hung heavy, fraught with disastrous potential. Rachel's answer would seal the deal, one way or the other. No matter what, Max wasn't going back to her cage again. She'd die first. Already, she was forming her attack plans…

 _...if I trip Chloe quickly to get her prone on the ground, then I think I can quickly close the distance between me and this Rachel. Oh wait..._ that _Rachel? The one who broke Chloe's hea- gah! Stow it, Max! Focus! She looks like she has some training with a firearm, her stance is good, but I can probably disarm her all the same. She's just a Null, it's Victoria I have to worry about. If she manages to turn me into a giggly zombie like last night, then it's over. Huh, maybe it's best if we play along first, and then I can keep an eye out for an opening…_

"What? You mean S.O.A.P.? No! Fuck those guys. Sideways. With a cheese grater. I hate them. And I'm gonna guess you're no fan either, right? I mean, you're a Damocles Initiative agent, but they forced you to do it, yeah? You ran away for a reason and you don't wanna go back. Or you would have already."

Max tried to tamp down whatever relief Rachel's answer immediately produced. She wanted to believe her, but for all she knew, it was just a ruse. On the other hand, if she was incredibly lucky enough to find sympathetic Specials willing to help her escape - God, what a break!

 _Can't help but think it seems a little too convenient..._

"Yeah. Yeah, something like that," Max said. "Okay. Let's assume everyone in his room hates the Feds. Doesn't mean we're on the same side, though. You're pointing a gun at me, and that makes it kinda hard to trust you. Maybe you put it away, and we talk more."

Rachel broke out laughing. "Yeaaaah-ha. I'm holding the gun because otherwise I'd be peeing my panties here. Max, _you're_ supposed to be the most powerful Special on Earth. Not to mention the fact that DHS has been training you to be a killer ninja-spy for five years, so you're still stupid dangerous even _without_ your powers. The gun, and Victoria here, are the only things keeping you from just brutally destroying us right now if you wanted to."

"And you're hella bluffing about shooting us!" Chloe spat out.

The bitter, acrid tang of terror forced its way up Max's throat as she watched Chloe walk over, with only a towel wrapped around her body, and step up against the barrel of the gun. She froze, helpless, desperately wanting to snatch her girlfriend back from possibly dying due to her staggering idiocy. But she forced herself to remain perfectly calm, knowing that any sudden action could result in the worst sort of tragedy.

"Chlo-lo...don't." Rachel said, her voice losing its playful tone, becoming much softer and serious. "Okay, please don't test us right now. I know you're stupid mad at me, and I don't blame you, I did a shitty thing, and we can talk about it later. Hell, I'll even let you take a swing at me when we're all safe, but right now, just go back..."

"Chloe! Please." Max pleaded. "She's got me nulled right now, okay? I don't think you understand how serious that is. If it works anything like how it does for Wright, it makes it a _lot_ more complicated for me to rewind backwards and save you, even if she drops the field. Please just come back here, baby!"

"Don't worry, Max," Chloe said, smirking triumphantly as she locked eyes with Rachel. "I know you, Rache. You don't have the guts. You were the fucking coward who tore my heart out over the phone instead of doing it in person. You're not gonna shoot me now." She made a point of slowly reaching for the pistol, with the intention of taking it away.

"V-Victoria! Jesus, help here!" Rachel stammered out in a panic.

"Chloe. Stop. Right now." Victoria said, smooth and commanding, with barely a trace of nerves. Even though it wasn't being used on her, Max could hear the delicious difference in the blonde's voice. She absolutely despised the thought of having that sort of control exercised over Chloe, remembering how the power would impose a false sort of love and obsessive devotion on her. At the same time, she was overwhelmingly grateful that it was pulling the situation back from the brink of disaster.

"C'mon. Come over here. With me." Victoria started to walk back, until she was sitting on the edge of the bed. "Just come over here, and kneel by my…" she stopped short, glancing over at Max. "I mean, come sit next to me. Okay? We'll sit, and just be gal pals."

The change was instant and absolute. Suddenly, Chloe had eyes only for Victoria, a stoned and goofy grin spreading over her mouth. She drifted over, quietly sat down, and then leaned in close against the other girl as she asked, "Like this?" Victoria wrapped an arm around her and murmured. "Yeah. That's perfect. Absolutely perfect. _You_ are absolutely perfect. That was extremely brave, what you just did back there. I mean, brain-meltingly stupid too...but brave."

"Yeaaaah." Chloe slurred, laughing lightly. "But as long as you thought it was cool…"

Max and Rachel locked eyes on each other, both of them sharing the exact expression of relief.

 _...I can see it. She really does care about Chloe, and what happens to her. God, she was almost as scared as I was._

"Okay, now that we have that situation nailed down...God." Rachel sighed. "Look, I know you have zero reasons to trust me right now. I don't know a lot about what you've been through, but I know enough that it was probably super fucked up. We don't have time to spend trying to slowly defuse the situation and get to a comfortable point. I think I have something here that'll help. So...I'm just gonna pull it out. Not a gun, not...anything bad. Just a video player." With that, she cautiously reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out a small, thin device. She then held it out with a trepidatious hand. "He told me it's keyed to your retinal pattern."

As Max delicately retrieved it, she couldn't help but notice how obvious it was, from her body language and tone of voice, that this was not Rachel's first time in a Mexican standoff.

 _Jesus. Who are you, Rachel Amber?_

She glanced down at the device, and immediately recognized it. It was similar to something used by the CIA in order to deliver top secret video information in diplomatic courier pouches. The design was different: clearly more advanced, with significantly less bulk.

"If - uh - you wanna go into the bathroom and watch it in private, go for it. Helps there aren't any windows in there so...where else you gonna go, right?" Rachel said.

Max nodded once. She was at least curious enough now to want to know what the message waiting for her had to say. She glanced over at Victoria and Chloe together, a vicious stab of jealousy twisting up her guts.

"Don't worry. She still loves you, I swear. I promise to keep Victoria from - uh - from being Victoria, you know?" Rachel smiled sheepishly. "Just go and see what that thing has to say. Betcha it's probably from someone you're gonna be real happy to hear from again."

Max backed off into the bathroom; she felt she could at least trust Rachel to keep her promise. Also, it gave her some potential time to privately plot an escape, just in case. She closed the door, and then sat down on the toilet.

* * *

It was all Max could do to keep from worrying about Chloe, to hold her fury in check over Victoria; what she did last night, and what she was doing now. She didn't trust her old classmate any farther than she could throw her. And even Rachel, she was still negatively disposed towards, given how much she hurt Chloe and made her suffer. On the other hand, Max knew damn well how passionately quick to anger her girlfriend could be.

 _Rachel certainly seems to be apologetic, trying to make things right. Did she say she was gonna pay off Frank? I mean, that's three thousand dollars. Whoever she is, she can probably afford it, but that's cool. Doesn't stop it from being the right thing to do. Shit. I guess I'm trusting you, then. Don't make me regret it. Null or no, you won't be able to stop me if I decide to come at you for real!_

She busied herself with the mystery of the video device. Holding the small lens up towards her eye, she felt as much as saw the sweeping trace of a red beam analyzing the unique pattern of capillaries in her retina. It beeped pleasantly in response, and she held it in her lap as she watched the playback…

...gasping sharply as the imaged resolved itself.

 _Oh my God! It's Reese!_

He looked good; he was clearly much improved since the last time they parted company. Gone was the gaunt, hollow look in his eyes. He seemed rested, almost like he was possessed of a tenuous sense of peace. He was dressed in a white silk nehru jacket and sitting in an equally white room, with a midday tropical beach setting visible through the window behind him.

He was smiling, wide and happy, as he took a breath and started speaking.

" _Hello Max. It's good to see you. I trust this comes as something of a surprise. I apologize for not keeping in touch since I left Zion Control but...I had a lot I needed to come to grips with. A lot I had to learn. Anyhow, if you're watching this, then the freelance agent I've hired managed to make contact with you. I hope you're okay. It's Tuesday morning here as I record this, and we still aren't sure where you are, or what your condition is, so I'll admit...can't help but worry. But Max? I've also been told exactly what happened in New York City. What you accomplished, all the lives you saved. And I just…"_ He chuckled happily, shaking his head. _"I'm so proud of you. It sounds like shit hit the fan from the start, and you held it together. You did your duty. And best of all, you found a way to escape."_

He took another deep breath through his nose, nodded once, and continued. _"Good. It's about damn time. Because nothing in New York makes up for what was done to you over the past five years, Max. None of that is justified. Especially….how I personally wronged you. I'm...I'm sorry."_ He bowed his head, reaching up to rub at the side of his nose. _"Anyhow, it must be a shock, being on the run from S.O.A.P. and finding out that I want to help you get away from them. Once and for all. I promise to tell you the whole story in detail once you get here, but the important thing right now is to get you over to our side as soon as possible. I'm with a new group now. You might have heard of them: the Zaibatsu."_

Max had, but she didn't know much, past a few details she read in a couple of intel reports. Supposedly, they were nothing more than a bunch of has-beens and also-rans in the Specials community, although there was increasing chatter about them banding together with a bunch of smaller groups, turning themselves into…

 _...like, I guess I'd call it like the EU of Specials. A kind of superpower, with a lot of different people under one banner. Probably all freaking out because Martinet is such a power-hungry dickhole. They're supposed to be bad guys, but as far as he's concerned,_ everyone _not part of S.O.A.P. is an enemy._

" _A long time ago, Camilla and Shimiko - you remember hearing about her? Her girlfriend, although do not tell Cammie I called her that! Anyhow, the two of them kind of made a pact, to try and keep both Rising Sun and S.O.A.P. on the righteous path. And while Davies had limited success at best, Shimiko did a lot better for herself in climbing up the ranks and acquiring power...a bit more aggressively."_

He gave a soft clap with his hands and added, _"You know, God bless her, but Camilla always hoped she could take a more passive role. Gently guide Martinet and keep him from being a completely irredeemable douchebag, while she cleaned up his messes behind the scenes. I guess she always figured it wasn't exactly treason if her ulterior motives were pure. She was always kinda naive in that sense. I can't judge her too harshly, though, I used to be the same. But I think you and I know the real world doesn't work that way, Max. And given that it was Davies who provided us with the initial data regarding your disappearance, and more or less gave us her blessing for our attempt to extract you from Damocles, I suppose she's finally made the choice about which side she's gonna be on. Unfortunately, the last I heard, she was recalled to Zion Control."_

His face fell into a far more somber expression as he said, _"I'm sorry, but chances are slim that we're gonna hear from her ever again. Shimiko made it sound like there were desperation protocols they agreed on years ago, for a situation like this. I think...I think it's killing her, most of all. The thought of Camilla not coming out of this one alive."_

" _Right. Let me wrap this up quick: please come to us, Max. The agent who gave you this video should be trustworthy and competent enough to deliver you to an extraction point. Now that the two of you are together, it should be pretty smooth sailing from this point on. And once you get here, I promise: we're gonna do right by you. If you don't want anything more than to live out the rest of your life in some tropical paradise, or maybe on a farm, or in the city - you know, within reason, probably nowhere with any extradition treaties with the US - then we'll set you up for life. But if you're looking for payback?"_ He tilted his head just so, eyes narrowing. _"I think we can accommodate you there as well."_

He paused for a moment, before continuing, _"I...ah….I...um. Shimiko and I. We've been tackling the problem of what happened to your parents, what I...um...but we think it's reversible. We're already moving to secure them to a safehouse. We'll probably have them in custody by the time you get this. So give me a chance to give you the happy ending I robbed you of, five years ago. I'm never going to let anyone turn you into a weapon, or make you feel less than human, ever again."_

She could see it now, all over his face. How much her acquisition by S.O.A.P. haunted him. The personal guilt and responsibility Reese bore, and how it ate away at him. Clearly, he'd been waiting for a moment like this for a long time. And Camilla was a double agent? For years?! That's what he made it sound like!

 _This is too much. So crazy! I don't have any idea what's really going on anymore! But shit, if he's for real, if he can help me escape...and he said he thought he could cure my parents! Oh God! I want to believe it! Mom and Dad, I've missed you so much!_

Reese concluded, _"That it. That's everything. For now. So I hope to see you soon, Max. I honestly can't imagine you'd willfully march back to those assholes who look at the beautiful young woman you've grown into, and see nothing but a weapon to exploit. They're dangerous fucks though, and they're already looking for you, so I wouldn't waste time. Oh! Speaking of which, when the video ends, this unit is going to self-destruct! Not like, you know, with a massive boom, buuuuut if I were you, I probably wouldn't be holding this thing in my hands in about..."_ He paused, to check his watch. _"...ten seconds from now. See ya soon, kiddo. See ya soon."_

The video screen went black. Max immediately tossed it into the sink. Seconds later, it sparked, popped and fizzed, shattering itself into four melted pieces. Max dutifully gathered them up and flushed them down the toilet, relieved that it didn't clog and overflow.

She slumped down onto the ground, feeling numb and in shock. This was heavy. This was _big_. She'd need time to process. Time she didn't have right now. Which meant that her course of action was clear: push ahead, get away from whatever Damocles agents were potentially pursuing her, and as soon as it was safe, have a complete and utter freakout.

 _I'm talking days long, here._

Maybe it was all some elaborate trap, a clever deception, but Max didn't think so. Martinet didn't do subtle or intelligent or psychological; only brutal and blunt. She didn't know much about these Zaibatsu guys; maybe they were playing Reese, but if Camilla and her friend were working with them, that made it less likely.

 _Besides, if shit goes down badly, I'm sure one way or the other, I can escape again. Especially now that I know all about my photo power! Yeah, I'll just go back in time and warn myself. Easy._

Rising up, she opened the door, finding the other three girls virtually unmoved from a few minutes earlier.

Turning to face her and keeping the pistol drawn, but pointed down, Rachel quietly asked. "So. We good?"

Max took a long, cleansing breath. "I don't know about 'good', but you can put the gun away. I'm gonna trust you. Let's just say you've been vouched for, at least enough so I'll let you take us to this Zaibatsu group."

Rachel nodded once, holstered her pistol, and then smirked. "Hey. So I'm dying to find out at last. I'm assuming the guy who hired me was also in the video. Is he really someone you know?"

Max gave a thin half-smile of her own. "Yeah. He's probably one of my best friends. Even if he doesn't think so, sometimes." She then turned her gaze towards the bed and walked over. She tried to keep the coldness out of her voice as she asked Victoria, "Can you slowly bring her out of whatever you did? I'm gonna seriously need to calm her down when you let go of her brain."

Rising up, and quickly trotting to hide behind Rachel, the short-haired blonde said. "Okay. The glamor is wearing off."

Max wrapped her arms tightly around Chloe, as she anticipated the worst. The goofy grin melted away from the blunette's face, and all the rage and anger previously being held in check kicked back up to eleven. Max was not disappointed as Chloe tried to rise up, pointing and yelling, "You fucking psycho! What the hell was that?! What did you do to me!? This is bullshit!" She turned back to her, and said, "Max! Don't trust them! Don't trust either of them! This is all a fucking set up!"

"Baby." Max said quietly.

"I am gonna break my boot off in your bony ass, Chase!" Chloe bellowed.

"Chloe!" Max called out forcefully, squeezing her arms tightly, to the point where her girlfriend winced.

"Yeah, I'd like to see you try!" Victoria snarked, prompting Rachel to turn and smack her hard in the shoulder. "Not fucking helping, Tori!"

"Ow! Max! What the hell!" Chloe complained, struggling against Max's near-crushing bearhug.

"Chloe! Listen to me. Please…." She reached up, cupped Chloe's cheeks, and pulled her face close, so that they were barely an inch away from each other. "I know you're pissed. I _know_ you're freaking out. And overwhelmed, and ready to lay the smack down. But Rachel and Victoria aren't the enemy." She paused, looked over her shoulder, and added, "Not saying they're our friends though, but definitely not the enemy." She turned back and continued, "Believe it or not, they're our best chance to escape...and even have a normal life together. Something better than blindly running and looking for a cold, tiny corner of the world to curl up and hide in."

Chloe seethed, despite the fact she was slowly calming down, having at least abandoned actively struggling. "I don't trust those two…"

"Then trust me. Please. Baby, just trust _me_."

The plea hit its mark, finding purchase in Chloe's anger-fogged mind. Giving one last visible shudder, she nodded. "Okay. Alright. I'll always trust you, Max. Always." She tilted her head. "Because I love you, too."

Max felt her heart burst, and her insides turn gooey. Anger and tension quickly gave way to tenderness, as the two of them fell into a firm, full kiss, nibbling at each other's lips, and petting the others face. They didn't even notice when Victoria put her finger in her mouth and made gagging noises. Chloe then broke the kiss and glanced over at Rachel, murmuring, "You were really gonna pay off my debt to Frank?"

"Yeah, C. That was the plan. I mean….fuck. I thought I was protecting you when I cut you loose. Long story short? The Russian version of the people chasing Max tried to kidnap me and Victoria back in April, and we had to spend a few months in this kind of shadow war with them. When the dust settled, and I got back in touch with you in September, I was totally convinced that I should just cut you off. Quick and clean. Because I was absolutely terrified of what would happen if I dragged you into this world of ours and you got hurt. Or worse." She took a deep breath, and crossed her arms. "But I can see I made the wrong call. You're way hella stronger than I gave you credit for."

Chloe nodded, tightening her grip on Max. She said nothing for a few seconds, the silence and tension growing until it seemed to fill the room. Exhaling sharply, she finally said, "Alright then. Gonna take some time for me to get over All The Hurt; I can't just drop shit and be chill for real, like it didn't happen. I don't work that way. You should know that if you were really my friend. But yeah, I understand now...why the hell you did what you did. I think I'm finally ready to start moving past all that."

As the immediate tension bled out, Chloe leaned in and bitterly murmured against Max's ear, "Can I just say how abso-fucking-lutely unfair it is that I'm the only one in this room who didn't get superpowers? What the shit?"

* * *

After quickly transferring Chloe and Max's luggage into Rachel's SUV, the four of them sped off.

"Well, we're off to a private airfield. Jet waiting for us that'll take us somewhere, probably out west over the Pacific towards Asia. But it's gonna take us an hour or two to get there, since you two were hiding out here in Bumblefuck, Washington." Rachel smirked at that.

"Yeah, well...not gonna apologize for being halfway decent at what I do." Max replied. "All this training had to count for something." She was belted in the back, her hand clasping Chloe's tightly. Her girlfriend was wearing what would be best described as a tolerant expression; she wasn't happy with the situation, but was willing to go along with it for the time being. She and Victoria were both silent for the next forty five minutes, as Rachel and Max made chit-chat, trading stories of their experiences growing up as Specials.

"Jesus fuck. I thought my childhood was screwed up. I mean, they gave me all kinds of training, but you guys had to pull this spy shit off all on your own?" Max said, impressed. She'd just been given the short version of Victoria and Rachel's time fighting off Russian agents during the springtime.

"Well, Doctor Prometheus was a pacifist, but a few of the other people on our team were a little more realistic. They taught us some things along the way. Between Victoria's power, and my being able to prevent her from being nulled, we winged it most of the time. Still, I miss the old man."

"He sounds...neat. I think I like your group a fuckton more than mine. For cereal." Max exclaimed.

Rachel sadly remarked, "Well, I'm afraid 'my group' is just a memory now." She suddenly burst into a laugh, "Oh Christ. He would have loved to meet you, Max. I mean, he knew you existed. He was totally wrong about what you could actually do, and we all thought you were some omnipotent old dude back then, but he was convinced you were, like, this key to making the world a better place. The idea of you, at any rate."

Max hugged herself tight, and muttered. "The idea of me's been more trouble than it's worth, the last five years."

"Yeah, but it's almost over, right? Soon, you'll get a chance to decide exactly who and what you wanna be."

"I guess." Max breathed out. She leaned against the passenger side window, glancing out at the passing cars. They'd pulled onto the main freeway a few minutes ago and were speeding along. Freedom was so close now - she could almost taste it. She wanted to relax, but couldn't force her situational awareness to dial back…

...that was when she spotted it.

"Rachel? Those wide load trucks ahead. Is it me, or are they moving side by side next to each other?"

"What? Oh. Yeah, I guess. Weird, they're gonna tie up traffic stupid crazy if they keep that up. No one can pass them.

Max leaned forward, peering into the rearview mirror. Whipping her head around, she then looked out through the back window. Her heartbeat quickened as she spotted a black van, one that was slowly weaving its way through traffic like a shark lazily navigating the ocean waves.

"Rachel, get off the highway."

"Wait, what? Hold on, this'll clear up in a minute, it looks like a couple of cop cars are riding over to…"

"Get off the highway now, damnit!" she yelled. The other girl complied, sharply veering off towards the nearest exit, the last one available for at least the next five miles.

"Here! Turn here, get underneath the overpass."

Again, Rachel complied. Chloe was the first to ask. "Baby, what's up? Did you rewind back from the future? Did we almost get snagged?"

"No rewind yet, but I might have to if it comes to it. I'm pretty sure those trucks were intentionally throwing up a rolling roadblock, right as we were hitting a long stretch without any exits. Can't be certain, but I wouldn't be surprised if we've been made. Hold on…" Max glanced out back through the rear window, her heartbeat slowing as the van failed to make an appearance. "Okay, I think we're good for now. But shit might start getting interesting."

"We're gonna have a harder time getting to the extraction point if we can't take the highway. C'mon, we'll figure it out as we go," Rachel said.

They drove on for another minute before three more black vans emerged from side roads. Rachel sped up, weaving through and trying to avoid being boxed in from all directions. She barely escaped the initial corral attempt.

"Shit! This must have been the plan all along! Spook us off the highway and onto the secondary roads where it'll be easier to pursue us!" Max lamented.

Rachel drove faster, as Chloe turned to her. "Max, maybe you should go back and warn us?" she offered.

"Yeah. Good idea..."

That was when she noticed the helicopter up in the air, currently circling around them. And then she realized she was once again bereft of her powers.

"Shit! It's Wright. It's gotta be! She's the only person I know who could null me from that far away! Unless she's in one of the vans, but I doubt it!"

Doing her best to keep driving as fast as possible down the narrow roads with only one hand on the wheel, Rachel reached backwards, and said, "Max. Take my hand. I can shield you from being nulled. You can roll back and give us a warning!"

Max reached out to clasp the offered hand, then suddenly stopped. "Wait! What happens if I drag you along with me, like what happened last night? That was just a few minutes. I'm gonna have to go back at least an hour or two to be safe. What if that kills you or drives you insane!?"

Rachel glared up at her through the rearview mirror. "I'm willing to take my fucking chances if it's a choice between that and ending up a slave of the government! Now take my damn hand and get us out of here!" Before they could argue any further, the sharp report of gunfire rang out, mingling with the loud pinging of bullets hitting steel. Max instinctively crouched low and called out in a panic.

"Chloe! Get down! They're firing at us, get do-!"

Chloe jerked forward, the front of her forehead blossoming with ruby red splatters as a sniper's bullet took her out from behind. Victoria screamed as the slug continued to cut forward through her headrest, before finally smashing through the windshield, barely missing her.

The blood roared in Max's ears, dulling out whatever other sounds filled the air: Victoria's shrieking and Rachel angrily demanding she rewind. Max only had eyes for Chloe, slumped forward in her seatbelt: her beautiful face ruined, her eyes still open, dead and lifeless.

Rationally, Max should have realized that she could take it all back. It was risky - although only for Rachel - and there was no guarantee they wouldn't run into Wright and her team elsewhere, but it was a better fighting chance than they had right at this moment. Most important of all: Chloe would still be alive.

But all of that burned away in the fires of red-hot anger; something deep inside Max snapped. All of the humiliation and trauma, the victimization and righteous indignation tore through her veins like white phosphorous. In one smooth, unthinking action, she withdrew her Desert Eagle and undid her seat belt. Leveled the pistol towards the vehicle nearest theirs…

...Rachel's fingers managed to brush over her leg; her power flared up with a vengeance, like a bonfire suddenly struck with a gascan. In the blink of an eye, Max could see every conceivable firing solution she could take in the next five seconds. She instinctively separated out the nigh-infinite instances where her shots fired out uselessly from the precious 'lucky' ones, where she managed to hit a tire, or the radiator…or what Max ultimately settled upon: the skull of the driver, behind what should have been bullet-resistant glass. It felt similar, but less overwhelming, to what happened to her Wednesday night.

In Max's mind's eye, she desperately wanted it to be Nicole dying at her hands, even though she was vaguely aware that her hated foe was safely ensconced up in the helicopter. The nameless agent, now slumped over the wheel of the rapidly decelerating van behind them, would have to do in her stead.

 _...can do this! This is some sort of new power, whatever the hell is going on, but I can do this! I can get us out of here!_

"Just get away from them, a mile or two! Then I can rewind safely!" she roared out.

 _All I have to do is take out the other vans!_

And shake off a pursuing helicopter.

Max and logic clearly weren't on speaking terms at the moment.

As she wheeled the gun about, looking for her next target, a high pitched whine suddenly split the air; the world around her lurched as the SUV flew upwards. Unbelted as she was, she tumbled about inside like a ragdoll, at the vicious mercy of gravity and momentum.

Everything momentarily blacked out.

By the time she came to her senses, she could see that the SUV had fallen back to earth upside down. Victoria's neck was hanging at an unhealthy angle, suggesting it was broken. Rachel was alive but bruised and cut up, the driver side airbag having offered some measure of protection.

But Max herself?

She already knew the end was coming for her. She could barely breathe, quickly realizing that of the several broken ribs she now possessed, at least one punctured a lung. Not to mention the broken bones in her leg and arm.

Rachel reached out, and gasped, "Max! Take it...fucking...rewind us back! We can still warn…"

It wouldn't be any use, at least not to her. She couldn't rewind back her injuries, and there was no way they'd get her medical attention in time. But she could save everyone else. She could save Chloe, and in her last, dying moments, beg Rachel - assuming she survived the trip - and Victoria to get her to safety, to swear to protect her for the rest of their lives.

Max reached out towards the offered hand, when she suddenly realized something must have fallen out of her pocket in all the chaos and confusion. It was lying right next to her on the crushed and ruined SUV roof.

A instant picture. Taken in a happier time, and at a better place.

She laughed at herself quietly.

 _I am such a fucking idiot. I should have realized that I could've saved us all along. But it doesn't matter. I still can! I will. I can do this. If I can just stay alive long enough to focus._

She tried to reassure Rachel, and tell her that everything was going to work out, but she realized she could barely breathe. She needed to work quickly before passing out. Reaching out, ignoring the pain that screamed through her hand as she snagged the picture, she grabbed Rachel's hand with the other, and focused intently.

In the background, she could hear footsteps approaching, as boot heels crunched against broken glass and metal on the asphalt. One of them was wearing a radio, and Wright's voice angrily barked out, "Who did that? Who the _fuck_ opened up with the motherfucking...whatever that was?! Our orders were crystal clear, assholes: take the assets alive. As soon as this thing lands, I am gonna shove my boot so far up…"

Max could feel the gears clicking into place in her brain. Already, she could hear Chloe's voice on the other side of the picture, as it fuzzed and whirled to life. She was close, so close, unable to tell if the blackness consuming the edges of her vision was caused by the imminent time jump or whether she was starting to pass out.

"We got survivors!" someone shouted.

And then Max was gone…

* * *

 _Max lowers the camera back into her lap. She and Chloe are up in the gondola of the Ferris wheel at the Marion County fair. Chloe is stroking her side possessively, and it's all she can do to focus on delivering her message._

" _Chloe," she starts. "Listen to me. I just came back from two days in the future. I jumped backwards through the picture we just took, the same way I used that old photo to go back and try to save your Dad. I'm gonna be brutally honest: we are totally fucked. You're dead, and I'm two seconds away from dying, but I managed to project back before that happened. So that's how serious the situation is."_

 _Chloe blinks, jerking her hand away in response. Max tries to ignore the sense of loss this produces in her as she continues, "Once I'm done talking to you, my 'present self' is gonna take over again, and she won't really remember the conversation we've had. So I need you to remember it for the both of us. And sorry, but you're going to freak out when I tell you: We need to get back to Arcadia Bay. We have to contact Rachel Amber and Victoria Chase as soon as possible...and…"_

" _What?! Rachel? Max, you've got to be fucking kidding…" Chloe interjects._

" _Please! Just listen! I know it sounds crazy! I know it sounds insane, and I know you hate her, but she's actually a Special, just like me. So is Victoria. You need to tell me that Reese has turned traitor, that he's now working for a group called the Zaibatsu, and he personally hired the two of them to safely extract us. Because believe me, we need all the help we can get right now."_

 _Chloe swallows hard and shakes her head. "Jesus...all this shit, just from taking a photograph." She pauses. "Max, you_ better _not be fucking playing a joke this time! Not like last night...because this isn't funny…"_

" _Chloe. Please...can you do this? We need to survive, you and me...we need..." Max takes a long, sharp breath, and leans in to whisper, "I know you're just seconds away from confessing that you love me. I want you to know I feel exactly the same way. So...so don't forget. In another few seconds, when I lose control, you still have to tell me. And shoehorn in all those warnings I just gave you, too. Can you do that?"_

 _Chloe blushes furiously. She blinks, then swallows hard. Max regrets having thrown so much at her in such a short span of time. Unable to help herself, she leans in, giving the blunette a short but intense kiss on the lips._

" _Just a taste of the future to come, baby. You go and put your arm back around me, and keep rubbing my side. When I suddenly ask you if you're staking a claim, you'll know I'm not in control anymore. Okay? And also: act surprised when I tell you I feel the same way you feel about me. Oh! And tell me I need to start carrying pictures that I can use to go back in time with, just in case!"_

 _Chloe nods frantically, smiling like a child on Christmas morning as she struggles to commit everything to memory. Max leans in against her, sighing softly, closing her eyes and enjoying the feel of her soon-to-be-girlfriend's fingers strumming against ribs that are so very unbroken and pain-free, content in the knowledge that everything is going to be alright. She came so damn close to complete failure, but dodged it through sheer, stupid luck. She needs to be more careful, from this moment on._

 _Everything fades to white…_

* * *

It took a full minute for Max's vision to return...so she thought. She soon realized that she actually 'woke up' in an extremely sterile and white room.

 _Oh. Oh shit...this doesn't fill me with confidence._

It was windowless, like a cell, but surprisingly well appointed. Rising up from the comfortable single bed, she poked around, finding a large master bathroom, and a tiny hallway that led not only to a sort of sitting room, but to another door, assumedly the exit.

Which was locked tighter than a drum.

A handful of exotic looking plants and flowers, combined with a few Japanese watercolor paintings added careful, almost artistically placed slashes of color to the holding cell, breaking up what was otherwise a bland and monotonous background.

 _Well…fuck. Gonna guess things with the Zaibatsu didn't work out as well as I'd hoped for._ Now _what am I gonna do?!_

* * *

 _ **A/N:**_ Heyyyyy kids! It's Black Swan Friday! Lyta and NQW are in ur chase scene, killing ur gayngels!

Holy sweet Jesus. As you can see, this is the biggest single chapter of the entire series. It's actually not the biggest single chapter as written: the next chapter after this one, which I'm breaking up into two pieces, clocked in at 13K, and the finale was 25K. But yeah, you can see that as shit gets real, the word count shoots up. This thing was a bear to proofread though. Literally took me a good four hours to go through it the final time; I have a bad feeling that there are goofs and glitches left over, but I just can't make myself go through that again. Man, I have all new respect for professional editors and proofreaders.

Also hey! We should have crossed the 250K mark with this one. We won't hit 300K, but we'll come close.

So this is about the point where we get close enough to the ending that I can start talking about how difficult it was to pin it down. Literally, I have come up with and thrown out at least nine or ten different plans before deciding on what I have now, which I only finalized about two or three weeks before finishing the first draft of the finale. It hasn't been edited yet, so it's still possible some things could change. But this chase scene was supposed to go a lot differently, in multiple ways.

I think originally it was going to be just Max and Chloe being chased down. They give up, and just as Wright is about to cuff them, Victoria and Rachel pop out, and that's when it's also revealed several of Nicole's agents were secretly working for the Zaibatsu and turn on her, except this was before I came up with the Zaibatsu, and everything was going to be the Children of Hypatia. Except that was after I gave up my original notion, which was Victoria and the DAUGHTERS of Hypatia were going to be the bad guys, and it was all going to be a much more traditional superhero type affair. And then there was weird shit with Cammie trying to convince Nicole to join her side, and other strange stuff with Max jumping herself, Chloe, Rachel and Victoria ahead five years to let the heat die down. Suffice it to say, it was a lot of various hot messes that I am glad I eschewed. Really, I could just write on and on, in director commentary mode, about all the different ideas I came up for what would ultimately be this chapter, but I'm already well past the point of rambling.

Okay, one last thing: It looks like we're going to have to take a little break. NQW and I have been wicked busy lately, and it's impacting our ability to polish up the last few chapters. Since this is a good cliffhanger, I'm going to say hopefully no more than four weeks. If we finish everything up sooner, we'll publish sooner. Honestly, I'm really amazed at the pace we've managed to keep up since our return in April. 11 chapters with only a one week break. Pretty crazy. At any rate, you can always keep an eye on my profile page for the latest status updates.

So have a great midsummer, and we'll see you all as soon as we can!


	38. Staring Into The Abyss

For the eighth time in as many minutes, Max cursed her stupid luck as she poked and prodded at her new accommodations. The good news was that it was clean and looked quite comfortable; she'd already helped herself to a bottle of water and the assortment of Japanese snack food in the mini-fridge. The bad news was that the front door was locked from the outside, and all attempts to jimmy the latch had thus far failed. The door was also much sturdier than it looked, easily resisting any and all efforts she made to try and smash it down with physical force. Her loud calls for someone to come and answer her questions went unheeded.

She found it disconcerting that she couldn't remember how she'd gotten here. It wasn't that she had a big, blank gap in her memory, more like the memories she was able to call up were fuzzy and indistinct. She could recall that...a whole bunch of _something_ happened to her between Wednesday afternoon and this point now, but it was like trying to read a book in a dream. Her mind kept sliding away from any useful comprehension or understanding. The exact same thing happened to her the last time she used her photo power to change the timeline, so it wasn't exactly unexpected, but still damned inconvenient.

Naturally, the most obvious solution to her current predicament was to rewind herself back down the timestream until she was out of confinement, then see what went wrong. However, she quickly discovered she could only go back to the point where she 'woke up' in the newly created timeline. As before in New York City, some strange 'wall' stood in her way, forbidding her from moving back any further.

 _Fuck, that's weird. What the hell's going on?_

She tapped her lips as she considered.

 _Wait, think this through, Max. Did this happen the last time you changed the past on Tuesday? Let me see...I jumped back to 2008, altered a few things, and then I woke up in a new timeline. Just like now, I couldn't honestly remember what happened in the altered past. I spent roughly twelve to fourteen hours at Other Chloe's house, and then jumped back from_ that _alternate timeline and changed the past in 2008 again. Finally, I woke up in the newly-restored previous timeline, also twelve to fourteen hours later from when I_ first _tried to change the past. Then I wound back all that time to make up the difference, so I could spend the afternoo- ah ha! See! See! Then, I_ was _able to rewind back past the moment I 'woke up' after changing shit around. But now I can't._

She paused, as she continued to puzzle through.

 _Hold on_... _maybe me jumping into 2008 from the Other Chloe timeline doesn't count, as far as the Universe is concerned, because I went back and wiped_ that _timeline out with the sole purpose of restoring the previous timeline exactly the way I found it. So that second change never actually happened at all. Maybe if I had tried to rewind all the way beyond the original point I initially changed the past on Tuesday morning, I would have hit the same 'wall' I'm hitting now._

 _Fuuuuuck! I wish I'd tried, then I'd know for sure._

Max tugged at her hair in manic frustration, before letting out a short yell.

 _SHIT! Ugh, this bullcrap still makes my head hurt, even after five years!_

As she angrily flopped down onto the bed, Max took stock of the situation.

 _Probably best to assume this is a room in some sort of Zaibatsu facility. But why the hell would they lock me up? I mean, I can't imagine they treat all their prisoners so nicely. But obviously I'm under lock and key. Wait..._

 _Oh shit, I hope Chloe is okay!_

Guilt and worry burned acridly through her chest. She pounded gently at her forehead and groaned, "Note to self: Start keeping a fucking journal! That way, when the timeline changes, maybe I'll have a record of what the hell happened before."

The thought of writing in a journal made her sit up and take stock of what items were presently available to her. Other than the furniture and appliances in the room itself, there was a small closet; inside that was her duffle bag. Quickly checking its contents, she found her clothes, toiletries, a few personal items…

 _...and the camera Chloe gave me! Oh score!_

Turning out her pockets, she found little more than a few photos, including the picture of Chloe and herself from 2008, as well as the one from the fair, along with the picture they took together on Tuesday night.

 _Double score! Wow! These guys must have no idea how dangerous it is to leave me with this stuff! Weird, though. Why would they give me_ any _of my gear at all? Why leave anything to chance? I mean, I don't have my guns, so they must have taken them, but letting me keep everything else seems to be a violation of what I'd consider standard prisoner protocol. Which means maybe I'm not a standard prisoner. What if they're trying to figure out what the fuck to do with me in the long term? Orrrr...maybe they're trying to lower my guard, treat me nice enough, so that I'll go along with whatever they ask of me? Like...a little bit of the carrot and the stick? God! If that's true, I almost wish they'd just be honest, no matter what their intentions. For cereal._

Beyond that, the only other things she could find were a few towels, a notepad and pen, and a book of the collected teachings of the Buddha.

 _Geeze, it's like these guys are running a fancy hotel or something._

Again, her thoughts turned to Chloe. Max could deal with anything that was headed her way, but without any solid information about her girlfriend, she was driving herself insane with worry. She 'knew' that Chloe was still alive, but she couldn't recall any other details beyond that.

 _Huh. I have all the tools I need to go back in time and try again. To warn Chloe about this but...fuck! I'd be going in totes blind. I can't tell her what went wrong; for all I know, any advice I give her now could make things way,_ way _worse. If only I could talk to myself in the future, find out exactly what's going to happen, and what I need to do to avoid it. Assuming it's something I should avoid at all. On the other hand, maybe I should just cool my heels and see what happens. Buuut...on the other_ other _hand, forewarned is forearmed. And what if they're doing something really bad to Chloe, right this minute?! I need that information! I need to scout ahead. It'll…_

And then it came to her.

 _...it'll be just like what Chloe and I talked about doing Tuesday night, except this time, it won't be a joke!_

Max walked back to the closet, deftly snatched the camera, and carried it over to the nearby desk. As she cradled it in her hands, she considered exactly how to proceed.

 _I'm probably being monitored. I can't rewind past the point of me taking the picture - I think? But I_ can _write a message to myself, and then when I'm done, hold the letter in my hand, then rewind back so that the letter is written but the event of me writing it is taken out of the timestream. So in the end, it looks to anyone peeking in on me that I'm just bored and goofing around, taking selfies._

Max took a deep breath, and mentally crossed her fingers as she peered down at the camera on her lap. She pointed it up towards her face and pushed the button…

...her vision whited out.

She looked up and sat there for a good minute or two, waiting for something, anything to happen. She tapped her feet, as she tried her best to be patient.

 _Well...huh. I wonder what's taking so long? What did it feel like, last time? I don't remember. But this time is different. I mean, this time around, I'm waiting and expecting to be taken over, so that should count for something, right? It should be instantaneous from my perspective, so what's the hold up? Awww shit! I guess that means it didn't work, after all._

Aimlessly, she turned the camera around and around in her hands, until she spotted the remaining exposure counter on the back.

 _Oh hell! It_ did _work! There's one less exposure left than there was a few minutes ago. Hah! I've been sitting here the whole time like a doofus. Weird. Now that I'm really thinking about it, I suddenly remember writing something, but I don't remember what, or why. Except, I put it in my hoodie pocket…._

Max reached in and retrieved several neatly folded sheets of paper. Her heart raced with excitement as she opened them up, mind swimming with the possibilities.

 _Wowser! Best plan ever! Let's see what Future Me has to say…_

She held up the letter and started to read.

 _Max,_

 _I suppose I shouldn't be so surprised this worked. It's just that it's been a long, long time since I've tried this trick, and even after we stabilized the worst of what happened during The Fracturing, it's sometimes been harder for me to go back in time than it used to be._

 _But I'm getting ahead of myself._

 _Well, first the good news I suppose, not that it will mean much in the long run. If I remember right, in about an hour or two, Reese will personally burst in here to free you. And man, I still remember: he was so hella pissed. Him and Shimiko. Seems the local cell of the Zaibatsu that Rachel and Victoria brought you to - which was in Hawaii, by the way - wasn't exactly following orders. They were instructed to accord you all possible hospitality, but someone decided you were too dangerous to just wander around freely, so they locked you all up. I guess they figured they were honoring the 'spirit' of their orders by imprisoning you in their fancy guest suites, as opposed to the actual holding cells. Still, people at the top - mostly Shimiko - were p-i-s-s-e-d! I vaguely recall that someone had to commit ritual suicide in the end to make it right. Honestly, it all worked out so quickly, I didn't even bother jumping back to tell you. At the time I figured 'Why bother?'_

 _But Reese and Shimiko end up being good to their word. They don't ever try to exploit you against your will, or turn you into a weapon. They don't keep you chained up or tied down. In the beginning, Shimiko and I mostly work together on her various science projects, trying to figure out how my powers work, and ways to create practical applications from temporal science. Things like better weather and natural disaster prediction, speeding up growing times in order to increase crop yields, creating 'slow time' chambers so that people in medical distress would have enough time to make it to the hospital. It's all crazy, pie-in-the-sky junk, but she's smart enough to start making some of it work._

 _But she'd probably do better if Cammie was still around to help her out. Can't remember if you knew for sure at this point, but just in case: she's dead. She sacrificed herself to kill Martinet and destroy the PAN-Opticon. Essentially, she pounded S.O.A.P. and Damocles hard into the ground. After that, it's total chaos for a few weeks; Alanna and a few others quit outright, and go off on their own. She actually joins Rachel's group for a bit, and God knows they needed her help. By the end of 2016, the Zaibatsu are on top, and no one else can seriously challenge them. I know that sounds scary and ominous, but it actually works out for a while, mostly because Shimiko can be really ruthless about maintaining order when she has to, but she doesn't get off on doing it, either. Not like Martinet did._

 _Reese died, though. Killed himself in late 2015. He kept his promise: he figured out how to give my folks their memories back. All of them. But he did it by stealing and then injecting himself with this experimental drug that Shimiko was cooking up. One which boosted his powers, but burned his brain out at the same time. He spent months watching me interact with my parents at the secure facility the Zaibatsu was keeping them safe at. And how they struggled to recall, and how sometimes they would come close to lucidity, so near to remembering me, only to have it fall apart in the blink of an eye. I guess after a while, it was too much for him to take. He felt like Shimiko wasn't able to fix things fast enough, so he took matters into his own hands._

 _Reese...you fucking asshole. God, I miss you._

 _I was there at the end, as he lay dying. It was tragic and sad, but he was at peace, too. As if he finally wiped his slate clean. I can remember it like it was yesterday. I was crying so hard, and yelling at him, asking why did something so stupid. He talked about being Moses at the edge of the Promised Land, how he led me there, even though he himself couldn't enter. And then he was gone, like someone flipped a switch and turned him off._

 _Chloe and I initially settled down in this awesome little village on the coast of one of the islands of Fiji, near one of Shimiko's research facilities. It's like paradise, you know? For the first few years, the two of us were so happy together. Rachel and Victoria came to visit a lot, and we kinda-sorta became good friends. We were so sure the future was gonna be bright and shiny._

 _That was until The Fracturing._

 _It's a long and complicated story, so I'll try to keep it short; Incident 34, the whole shit that went down in New York City? Cammie thought her inventions contained the worst of the damage caused by your powers and that Chinese kid's Emergence violently and repeatedly interacting in the same place and time. She was pretty certain it wouldn't spread, and that nothing was going to be permanently altered, at least not in any bad way. But with only a couple days to analyze the data before she died, it turns out she was wrong. She missed something. It was like a tiny crack in a windshield: minor to start, but filled with deadly potential. Reality didn't splinter all at once, but over the next five to eight years years, shit spidered slowly outward, causing almost imperceivable anomalies until all of the sudden, it crossed a certain threshold and blew up into something too obvious to ignore. The laws of physical reality started randomly breaking down, out from the epicenter of Manhattan. Time would run backwards, or skip in places. As things got worse, multiple alternate realities all tried to exist at once in the same space and time, often with disastrous results. The damage spread out further and faster, and the world descended into chaos. Entire crops would fail, diseases beyond imagination broke out, all kinds of horrible, crazy monsters appeared and devastated the land, like Cloverfield and Godzilla all rolled up into one. Sometimes, millions of people would just up and drop dead, or disappear into thin air, with no rhyme or reason._

 _It was years before Shimiko went back and fully looked over the quantum damage in New York City. In the beginning, she was simply too busy fighting with S.O.A.P. to bother; that, and she was so arrogantly certain that Camilla - whom she was crazy in love with - could not have missed anything important, that she put it out of her mind. It wasn't until around 2017, when we were running some experiments together, that she finally detected the first big signs. But by then, it was too late to completely stop the process. All we could do was focus on how to stabilize the worst of what was coming. Slow it up and buy ourselves enough time to figure out how to stop it completely._

 _She had_ the _craziest plan, one which involved building this giant machine at the top of Mt. Everest, and then hooking me up into it, like a living temporal core. I'm talking wacko Matrix shit. The most frustrating part was how long it look to construct the damn thing while the world started blowing up. Once it was built, she put me in it. For five years. Kept me in a medically-induced coma while her device worked to contain and counteract the worst of The Fracturing, using my own natural temporal stability as a quantum template._

 _And it worked. Mostly. She ultimately created this massive pocket of reinforced space/time that encompassed most of East Asia. It became a place for survivors and refugees to flock to and start life anew. We found out later that as a result of our work, other smaller areas of stability naturally formed across the globe. But even today, in my time, it's still incredibly dangerous to travel from one 'bubble' to another. There are a few Specials that can traverse the distances without immediately dying in the attempt. Also, there's me; I'm like Super Awesome Courier Number One. The Fracturing can't touch me, because it acts like it recognizes its own fucking mother!_

 _Max, when I jumped back to give you this message, the date was December 18th, 2033. I suppose you could say that humankind is okay. Or it's going to be. Still, most of the world is not in good shape. Except for Shambala, the new country Shimiko and the Zaibatsu founded and still administer. It's clean, and safe, and incredibly high tech. We just got flying cars a year or two ago! But most the rest of the world - and by that I mean the parts that exist in stable pockets of space/time - has been driven back into a largely agrarian existence, with useful bits of technology helping to keep civilization going. Europa Majora and the Empire of the Gateway Arch are the only two places other than Shambala that have any sort of industrial base to speak of._

 _I guess, in a perverse way, Shimiko is fulfilling her personal life mission: helping Mankind weather the worst of its new Dark Age. Shambala is the center of the known world, filled with culture and art, science and technology. It's almost paradise, at least for the privileged few who live there._

 _But there's no Chloe in my life. Not anymore._

 _She's not dead, though it would almost be easier if that's what actually happened. No. She continued to be amazing. Almost every day, for those five years when Shimiko had me hooked up to her machine, she'd come to my chamber and sit next to me. Tell me about what was going on, or just read to me, even though I couldn't hear her. She never gave up hope that I was coming back to her. When they finally brought me out from my coma, the first thing I remember is her lips pressed to mine, waking me up with a kiss, like my own Princess Charming._

 _You would think our love would be enough to keep us together, and I suppose it would have...if I didn't destroy it, like I destroyed the world._

 _Over the weeks I spent recovering, I read all the reports detailing what happened. The lives that were lost, the devastation and havoc wreaked. For instance, it turns out Arcadia Bay was wiped out by that tornado after all. The local fabric of space/time there was a mess;I'm pretty sure you can guess why. Joyce and David, and so many other people we knew were wiped out in the storm while we were safely hiding on the other side of the world._

 _They were the lucky ones, in that they died quickly._

 _Once I was strong enough to walk again, I made myself spend several months traveling across what was left of the planet. I can't even begin to fully describe what I've seen. The corrupted, alien, hostile places, the horrors that have taken over what we now call the Greater Wylding, which makes up the majority of the planet. And within the Wylding are barely protected areas where humankind survived, but time passed differently for them; tens or even hundreds of years. They're now little more than Iron Age throwback villages which exist in the cracks between the more civilized and fortunate city-states._

 _Villages that now fearfully worship or venomously spit upon the name of Kronos._

 _I've seen the statues and the temples they've built to the idea of me, after it was seared upon their collective subconscious. In some of these settlements, they call me Kronos the Implacable, a literal force of nature to whom they offer up sacrifices, so that I'll spare them any further chaos and destruction. Another group of villages exalt me as Kronos the Savior, the warrior-goddess who holds The Black End at bay; but really, they're nothing more than petty kingdoms where tyrants claim the divine right to rule in my name. And finally I've seen the places where they call me Mother Of All Evils. Hater of Humanity. Where they burn me in effigy, as part of their harvest rituals._

 _And why shouldn't they?! There are billions of people who are dead now! It's all my fault! I just couldn't live with it. The guilt became too much for me to bear. Why me? Why?! I only wanted to help people, to save them, and to make the world a better place, but thanks to me, most of the Earth is an absolute nightmare, a twisted wreck that will never fully recover._

 _When I returned from my travels, I fell apart. Completely. I started drinking pretty heavily to cope, and took to locking myself in my room for hours, sometimes days at a time. And Chloe...Chloe tried. So fucking hard. To be supportive, and wonderful, and there for me. She was so loyal and devoted…_

 _...but I found out that even true love has its limits._

 _It's not that she stopped loving me; she just couldn't deal with my shit anymore. For three long years, she tried her best, and I pushed her away, again and again. By the time she was gone, I finally realized what I'd done, but it was too late. She moved on. Last I heard, she got elected Chief Administrator of one of the prefectures that make up Shambala. Never thought of Chloe as the type to get into politics, but there you go. I think she's started dating again, too; I nearly disintegrated my liver from the bender I went on when I found that out. But I couldn't, shouldn't have expected her to not get on with the rest of her life. She gave me everything that she could, but in the end, I had to be the one to stand up and take the hand she offered._

 _I didn't. Simple as that._

 _It's too late for me, for all of us. But not for you, Max! Because I finally know what needs to be done. To stop The Fracturing. Stop ME._

 _Tonight, I finally found what I was looking for. This picture! Can you believe it? It took me weeks of journeying back to Fiji, to the ruins of my old house, in desperate hope there was something there I missed years ago. Turns out the damn thing was stuck on the back of one of the drawers I used to keep my clothes in. I had to savagely beat and kill this...thing. It was like a cross between a baboon and a weasel, with seven eyes and three mouths. A mutant wam-besel, I guess? The creepiest thing was that it could talk, so I asked him..her...it? to give me my picture back. But they wouldn't. So I beat the fucker to death with my bare hands and took back what was mine._

 _Fucking wam-besel. I warned it what would happen if it didn't listen to me. I_ _warned_ _it!_

…

 _Anyhow, here I am. In the past, writing this letter to you._

 _I've spent so many nights, thinking about how I could stop it; I mean, Incident 34. Talking to Shimiko, over and over, until even she was sick of hearing me ramble on. But it seems so obvious now; you need to jump back and stop yourself from ever Emerging in the first place. I mean, I guess we'd have to destroy the old picture, and then somehow convince our younger self not to think about trying to change the past, right at the moment when our Emergence is going to happen._

 _Or we could kill ourselves. Not a favorite, but I'd do it if there was no other way. Not my call to make, though. It's all up to you now. I lost the picture of Chloe and me from 2008 a long time ago, when the world was falling apart. And then I stupidly destroyed a bunch more after Chloe left me, because it hurt too much to look at them._

 _Simply put, I can't do this without you._

 _The kid who blew up in New York was the fire, but my powers interacting with that leftover spatial damage was akin pouring a massive amount of kerosene on it. Reality would have probably recovered from what he did, but not from the two of us together. Without my powers existing, The Fracturing will never take place. Maybe millions of New Yorkers will die...but maybe you can prevent that, too! I mean, shit, I'd be doing all this myself, if I only had that fucking picture back!_

 _So I have to ask you...beg….plead. Go back. Do it. Do it now. There's no point in waiting. I've told you what's coming. You can't do anything to change it. Believe me, I've spent years thinking how we could have done it all differently. Seems to me, the best answer is to make sure I'm never stuck carrying this fucking curse around. I mean, who's to say New York City even has to happen!? Ever wonder if it only occurred because_ you _existed? Like the universe became unbalanced by your very existence, and that Chinese kid was only part of the continuing fallout?_

 _Just...please do this. God, I'm begging you. Please._

 _You know, I wonder what'll happen to me, if you succeed. Will I wake up in a better world, but still remember everything? Or will I just die and fade away into nothing? Surrender to a much better existence than my own. I think it'd be worth it. All the blood on my hands, all the innocent people who are dead because of me. To simply fade away into nothing; it's better than anything else I deserve._

 _I know in my heart that even without my powers,Chloe and I will still end up together. I have that much faith in our destiny. And I'll be a better person, the kind of woman who's worthy of her._

 _You know what you have to do._

 _-Max Price-Caulfield._

Max rose up from her chair in a daze, staring off into space as she slowly, mechanically folded the pages of the letter up and put it back where she found it.

"I...I just…". She swallowed against the dryness in her throat and tried again, her voice breaking out into a soft whimper.

"Just wanted to see what was gonna happen for the next few days. Or weeks. Not…"

She hadn't planned on staring so deeply into the abyss.

Max didn't remember falling onto the bed, or curling up into a fetal ball, but that's where she found herself a short while later. She couldn't believe what she'd just read. She couldn't _not_ believe it either. She felt utterly flummoxed, trapped on the edge of a knife, unable to continue forward in any direction.

"Oh God, Oh God, Oh God…!" she breathed out, repeating over and over again, as it became a mantra. She didn't want to continue down this timeline, knowing full well the futility of it. On the other hand, how could she simply give up? How could she take without argument the word of some future version of herself, someone whose sanity was clearly questionable?

 _How can she just demand I undo it all? What did she think would happen? That I'd sit there and go 'Oh. Okay. Well let's get it over and done with.'?_

Maybe she could fix it somehow, now that she knew what was coming. She could warn Shimiko. That would be so simple. What's to say she didn't have a second chance?. A chance to make everything better?

But what...what if she couldn't?

 _What if this fate is unavoidable now? Like how William was killed, and when I tried to stop that again, Chloe ended up slowly dying in his place? What if all of this is happening because I saved him the first time?!_

She thought to just grab the picture, the one from all those years in the past. The one of her and Chloe together. She could already feel it in her jeans pocket, its very presence burning against her thigh, demanding that she stop it, stop all of it. All of the madness that lay in wait!

But she couldn't.

She couldn't bring herself to do it. There was still the urge to fight, to deny that her future was written in stone. Part of her was convinced that there still other means to avoid the worst of what was to come.

It occurred to her at one point to simply grab the picture she took of herself a few minutes earlier and destroy it. After all, if it didn't exist, then maybe these things wouldn't come to pass. But when she started to try, she found she couldn't push herself past the cold, chilling dread that seized her; the primal fear that creating such a blatant paradox would somehow cause reality to break down quicker, sooner.

In the end, she could only lay there, trapped in her mind, for an hour or two. It was only the soft, sharp hiss of the door to her room opening that jerked her out of her fugue state. She sat up, on the edge of the bed.

 _I...I guess we'll find out how much Future Me knew. Whether this is really the Zaibatsu come to let me out._

Part of her hoped against hope that the news wouldn't be good. That her salvation was _not_ at hand. Because if her future self was wrong about this, then maybe Max looked into the 'wrong' future, and her plan was flawed from the beginning.

 _Maybe I only looked into a potential future, and not the one I'm going to live in..._

But as soon as she saw Chloe's shining, smiling face emerge from the tiny hallway and into her bedroom, her heart sank as it simultaneously sang. Her girlfriend practically pounced on her, and her vision was obscured by curtains of blue hair as a mouth quickly sought her own in a relieved kiss.

"Oh, Max! Baby, I'm really glad to see you. Are you okay? They didn't hurt you?"

Max shook her head, laughing low, light and hollow. "No...No I'm okay. I'm fine." she lied. "How about you?"

"Yeah! Well, I mean, you know me, I was super pissed at first, but people have been hella apologizing since they sprung me fifteen minutes ago. You're never gonna believe who finally put the smack down on the assholes who decided to put us into 'protective custody'" Chloe said, before she stopped straddling her lap and sat down beside her, reaching out to tightly grasp one of her hands.

A couple seconds later, a familiar face entered the bedroom.

"Reese!" Max gasped in surprise. Despite the fact that she literally told herself this exact moment was coming, it was still completely surreal to see him again at long last. She leaned in to kiss Chloe on the cheek and then rose up, quickly crossing the short distance between her and her old friend.

"Max, let me just say, I am so sorry that…!" Reese was interrupted, surprised by the tight hug she gave him. He stood there awkwardly at first, before finally returning it.

"It's fine, it's fine, it's just...really good to see you!" she said. Her spirits lifted, if but a touch. It wasn't so much that she'd forgotten the terrible reality of what her attempt to peer into the future showed her, more that it was getting easier to rebuild the public mask to hide the worst of her shock and dismay.

At least for the time being.

"Well...anyhow, let me explain: Shimiko personally informed the base commander here to extend every courtesy when you and the others arrived. That did _not_ mean 'put her in your nicest guest room and then lock the door from the other side.' Believe me, there is going to be hell to pay! But...but the important thing is you're here, Max. Finally. You'll be safe with us now, I promise you! Despite the bad start we've had here, I swear to you, it's going to be different!" Reese gripped her arms tightly as he reassured her.

Smiling lightly, Max replied, "I believe you, Reese. Really, I do." As she spoke, it was difficult not to think back on what she read. How guilt would ultimately drive him into committing a suicidal act in order to bring her parents back to her. More and more, Max was understanding how looking into the future was the worst possible curse of all.

She hugged him tight again, afraid she might lose him in an instant. She then pulled back, and held out a hand towards the bed. "Uh...so hey. This is...this is Chloe. My fri...my girlfriend." Max said, a blush on her cheeks.

"Did you forget we met already, Maxima?" Chloe smirked. She then glanced over to Reese and said, "Thanks for not mind-wiping me this time around." Her teasing grin widened further as she spoke.

Self-consciously, he rubbed at the back of his head, and muttered, "Yeah. Jesus. Sorry again, about that."

"S'cool", the blunette said. "I mean, Max explained to me why you did it. How you were just trying to protect me. And considering you made it possible for the two of us to escape the Feds, _and_ your asshole friends when they were being assholes, I figure we can just call it even."

He chuckled at this and nodded. "Yeah. Great. Still, I'm gonna be making it up to you both for a while. Uh - are you hungry? I mean, I know there were goodies in the minibar, but that hardly counts, right? How about brunch? Oh! And Shimiko's going to be here, we'll have a huge celebration dinner. And then tomorrow, we'll sit down and figure out where we go from here. Believe me, Max - the sky is definitely going to be the limit from here on out. Anyhow, why don't you two come follow me. Rachel and Victoria should be out by now. I...god. I guess I probably owe them a bonus after this…"

Reese continued to chat, his arms moving in an animated fashion as the two of them walked behind, hand in hand. The rest of the facility followed the same ultraclean, extra-white, minimally decorated scheme of the guest room, though Max didn't bother taking in too many details. She leaned in and whispered to Chloe, "Ummm...I don't really remember anything between Wednesday, when I gave you the warning, and a couple hours ago. Can you fill me in real quick?"

"Wow. Really? Just, like...what? Total amnesia?" Chloe asked incredulously.

"Not quite. It's complicated. It's like there are placeholders in my mind, but I can't really examine those memories. Like someone else was driving, which I suppose in a way is true."

"Huh. Hella creepy. But yeah, it went just like you said it would. You know, the whole 'staking a claim' bit? But I promise, as soon as we got off the Ferris wheel, I delivered - uh...your? - message. So we hung around just a little bit more at the fair, and then went straight back to Arcadia Bay."

"Oh? That...that's sad. I mean...really sad. In the original timeline, we spent hours eating, and riding the rides and making out, and then went to a campground and - uh. Hee. Heh." Max said with a blush.

"Hah! Yeah well, we _might_ have done the deed at my house this time around. Fortunately, you know how to keep from screaming _too_ loud." Chloe ribbed her, stealing another quick kiss. "Anyhow, the next day, I got in touch with Rachel. Blew her fucking mind. That was probably the coolest part of it. I got to be all, "Hey Rachel you hella suck and I hate you, but I know you're looking for Max, and she wants to be found, so I guess you can come on over, if you hella kiss my ass and apologize forever."

Max shook her head, snorting loudly, as she tried to imagine the conversation that must have actually taken place.

"It was seriously fucked up, finding out she and Victoria were like you. With superpowers, I mean. And it was kinda sweet, in a twisted way, when Rachel said was gonna pay off Frank, and how sorry she was for treating me like shit; how she thought she was pulling off this whole cruel-to-be-kind thing. Anyhow, after we warned her how badly our first attempt to make it to the extraction point went, she decided she wasn't gonna play around. Called up Reese, and got him to send this...like...armored bus thing. There was actually a totally awesome street battle at one point: us against some other government vans. I'm talking people shooting out flames, and I think there was a rocket launcher involved. Maybe lasers? But they couldn't touch us! Anyhow, we made it to the airfield and escaped."

Max blinked, almost stumbling. "Wait. If Damocles found us, how the hell did we escape in a plane? They have enough pull, they could have called in some military jets to hunt us down."

"Yeah! They did!" Chloe laughed, clearly grooving on retelling the tale. "They totally did. But I guess one of the people on the jet can make shit turn invisible? I didn't understand exactly what was going on, but you seemed so calm about everything, so I didn't worry either. We totally shook them off our tail...epic win! Then it was a straight shot to Hawaii."

A cold, hard throb of dread pounded against her sternum at the word.

"Uh yeah. Yeah. Makes sense, I guess," she said, her head bowing slightly.

"Max? Are you sure you're okay? You kinda...I don't know. Look like you've seen a ghost, or something."

Swallowing hard, Max looked up and tried her best to smile reassuringly. "Just tired, baby. Jumping around through all these timeline changes wears me out. Remember, from my perspective, barely two hours ago I was dying, and then giving you a warning."

Chloe nodded, readily accepting the lie. "Oh yeah. I remember, like - uh. Like last time. God, that's twice in one week now. Or is it three times? Anyhow, you gotta cool it for a while, okay babe?" She wrapped an arm tight around her, voice heavy with concern.

Max leaned in close against Chloe and closed her eyes, before breathing out, "Yeah. Alright."

* * *

"Oh man! That dinner was hella epic. The only thing that could make it any better would be a soak in a luxurious hot tub." Chloe casually leaned against the traditional Japanese-style wooden tub, then made a playful show of doing a double take as she turned her head towards it. "Holy shit, babydoll! Look what I just found!"

The suite they'd been put up in was plush to the point of decadence, continuing the understated white color scheme with splashes of Japanese art and exotic plants. A king size bed with all sorts of adjustable bells and whistles dominated the bedroom. In a sunken living room area was white leather upholstered furniture that looked as expensive as a fancy car, situated around a massive wall mounted OLED TV that probably cost as much as a house. With the small kitchen area and the master bathroom, it was more like one of the world's most incredible condominiums. Fancier than anything either of them had seen in their lives.

Max laughed softly at her girlfriend's antics. She was pleased to see how quickly Chloe was adapting to their new situation. Far from being pissed, angry, and eternally distrustful of their hosts, she was instead enjoying their newfound status with complete gusto. But Max couldn't help but wonder if the bluenette was cluing in to her own somber attitude, and thus was trying to do her best to cheer her up, to the exclusion of being paranoid of and pissy at the Zaibatsu.

"Dinner was pretty amazing, I'll agree."

Lavish would have been a better word. All four of them, herself, Chloe, Rachel and Victoria, were given new designer clothes for the 'celebration', and the meal consisted of extremely expensive sushi, bottles of wine, incredibly fancy desserts...the whole works.

 _Can't help but think they're pouring it on a little thick. Like they figure I'd been so fucked over by S.O.A.P. that all they have to do is put on a big show for the night, and I'm putty in their hands. Aww...maybe I'm being a little too harsh on Reese, even Shimiko. I mean, he's seriously operating under a massive guilt trip. Who knows, some of that might be driving her as well. On the other hand, she's probably also jazzed to get me out of government hands and study me. But any experiments she wants to run will probably be a lot...nicer. I mean, Future Me made it sound like we got to be real friends, and that I even enjoyed all the science work we did together._

But she still felt pretty low about the maudlin toast she proposed at dinner…

" _To all the people who made sacrifices, in order for me to be here today." Max nodded to Reese, who smiled uncomfortably, before she added, "Especially Camilla. May she rest in peace."_

" _Certainly, we're holding on to hope that she made it out alive, Max." Shimiko quickly interjected. "We haven't received confirmation either way…"_ _There was a look on her face: she knew damn well what the truth was, but couldn't face it yet. In a fit of pique, Max answered, "No. She's dead. I've….I've seen that much."_

Max immediately regretted saying it. It was a shitty thing to do, and she privately apologized to Shimiko about it after dessert. And while the Asian woman appreciated the apology, she was also intensely curious as to what Max meant, exactly.

" _I'll tell you some other time. Promise."_

"So? So? Can we, can we, can we?" Chloe ask-begged, having already stripping down naked.

Max giggled once. "Wowser. Guess we have no choice now. It would be super awkward if i just left you there by yourself." She began to disrobe.

"Yeah, and if nothing else, I need someone to scrub my back." Chloe added with a lilt. She clambered up the stepping stool, and then lowered herself into the steamy water. "Oh. Oh yeah. This is so the life right now. Ahhhhh!" Max joined in soon afterwards, scooting up close to Chloe's side and laying her head on her shoulder.

Together, they quietly looked out through the massive picture frame window - polarized in such a way that they could look out without anyone being able to peer back in - and watched as the last few fingers of light from the setting sun retreated across the sparkling blue ocean.

Max was the first to break the silence. "I hope our parents are okay…"

Chloe blinked, then blushed, bowed her head, and whispered. "Yeah. Fuck. I feel like a total bitch, now. Didn't even occur to me that they might be in danger from the Feds."

Blanching at having brought down Chloe's mood, Max quickly added, "I'm sure they're okay. We can talk to Shimiko later tonight; if her people aren't already keeping a watch out for them, I'm sure they will if we ask them to."

"Good. Good, thanks, baby." Chloe gave a sigh, and rolled her eyes. "Damn if I still don't feel like a shitheel for not thinking of it myself."

Kissing her cheek and hugging her tightly, Max reassured her, "Please don't. We've been through a lot, and I know we both assumed they'd be fine; they'd be able to take care of themselves. Anyhow, let's just relax…" She turned to curl up against Chloe's side, trailing soft kisses across the shoulder.

They didn't speak again for another minute, before Max suddenly asked, "Chloe? Would...would you marry me?"

Clearly unprepared for the question, Chloe coughed. Face flushed, she started to answer, "Ah, um….ah! Whoa. Wait. Okay, hold on, that...I mean, of course but...I. Shit! Baby, I wasn't expecting that question out of the blue."

Max grimaced. "Sorry, I hadn't planned on asking it out of the blue, either. I guess I should tell you what's been on my mind."

"Please?" Chloe asked, starting to rub her back. "Something's been up since we sprung you. Did they do something to you?"

Max took a deep breath. "No. They didn't...it's just. From my perspective, I was dying one moment, then I jumped back in time to Wednesday, and warned you what happened, and then as soon as my mind jumped back, I was trapped in that room, with no clear memory of what happened. So I - uh - I tried something. You remember our Tuesday trick? Where we were gonna try and look into the future, and instead I totally fucked around with you?"

"Of course I remember, baby. I almost thought you were pulling the same thing with me on the Ferris wheel, after you took that photo and started telling me what happened in the future."

"Heh. Yeah. Well, I tried it again. For real. I only thought I'd get a few hours or days, or maybe even weeks. Just enough to find out if I should try and go back in time and change things again. It worked…"

Chloe leaned in, murmuring against her ear. "Did you see something really bad? Is that why you're...well, maybe not freaking out, but…"

Max nodded, and in a small voice said, "Yes. I mean...I saw more than I meant to. Some stuff coming up is really good, but there's some bad stuff, too. Things I wish I hadn't seen. And now, I don't know how to handle it. I guess it made me think about how little time we really might have, and why we shouldn't wait. And I know I love you, Chloe. I've loved you my whole life." She shook her head and groaned, "So I mean it when I say I want us to get married someday, but I didn't mean to put weird pressure on you. If anything, I've obviously ruined what could have been an awesome day in the future, where one of us does the proposing."

"Oh God….baby." Chloe blinked, before hugging her ferociously. "No wonder. Do you want to talk about what you saw?"

Max emphatically shook her head. "No! I mean...maybe someday. I can't deal with it, not right this moment."

 _God. How can I tell you that I destroyed the world, and then killed our relationship in a years-long cloud of drunken self-pity?_

"It's okay. It really is. But Max? Now that you've seen all that shit, you know you can change it, right? Just like you changed me getting killed a bunch of times, and you changed Kate committing suicide. You totally have the power to make it better. I know you can. I believe in you! I mean, you've done it so many times already. And God! How could I forget, what about New York City?"

Max felt a sickness roiling in her stomach at the mention, which she did her best to suppress. But as the rest of Chloe's words sunk in, she started to feel a calm denied her ever since she read that letter from the future.

 _Maybe Chloe has a point. Sure, it looks bad now, but that was before I knew everything that was gonna happen. And she's right; look at all the things I've prevented. Hell, she and I came so close to dying for real, and I changed that. Who's to say that I can't make it better this time around. Yeah! Maybe if I warned Shimiko tomorrow, she'll have enough time to fix it. And if I confront Reese right now, tell him that he doesn't need to kill himself for my sake, because of what happened to my parents, maybe that'll lessen some of his guilt._

She started to relax at long last, tears of relief welling up in her eyes.

 _Yeah! God! I shouldn't be freaking out over this, I should be looking at it as a blessing. A second chance. Hell, this is probably the best thing that could have happened to me. And I can keep making 'spot checks' of the future. I can totally save the world from what's coming, and everyone can live happily ever after!_

Like a train suddenly switching tracks at the last possible second, Max felt an internal emotional lurch. She was sure that the road ahead would be fraught with problems and unforeseen complications, but Chloe's simple-but-honest pep talk was exactly what she needed: a reminder of who she was, and what she could do.

 _I'm SuperMax! Heh...watch out world, I'm totally gonna protect you from doom!_

Crushing Chloe against her, she nodded. "You're right. God. You're...hold on. I'm gonna rewind back."

"What? Wait, why?!" Chloe asked.

"So it's a surprise, when I propose to you for real. Or when you do it, someday!"

With that, she casually wiped out the past few minutes, to the point where they were both quietly watching the sunset again. Feeling happier now, Max smiled eagerly to herself, as she shifted over to aggressively straddle her girlfriend's hips.

"Well hellllo there." Chloe smiled brightly. "There's an otter in my water. Or is that a hungry shark I spy?"

"Just thought I could give you something better to look at than the sunset." Max whispered huskily.

"Way, way better." Chloe agreed, reaching out to stroke her face and hair.

Their lips met hungrily, melding into a passionate kiss. Max was determined to lose herself completely tonight, to take exultant joy in their escape, and to celebrate and revel in the new future they would build for themselves.

Much later in the evening, she made a mental note to apologize to Shimiko, for all the water that sloshed out of the tub, and the mess she and Chloe made.

* * *

 _ **A/N**_ **: ...a** nd Chloe and Max lived happily ever after. Not a single problem darkened their days. Seriously, the next four chapters are just romantic fluff. ;-)

So...hey Swanketteers. It's good to see you all again. While it's been nice to no longer have to keep writing, I do miss the regularity of publishing. As some of you may have seen on my profile, this series is now publishing "as chapters become available." That means no set schedule, but I suspect that chapter 39 will either be published later near the end of this week, or sometime next week.

Sadly, after that, the three part finale may not publish out until mid to late August. Maybe sooner, probably no later. But I'm going to publish all three parts over a single week, so no more waiting once it begins.

Okay, with that out of the way...let me tell you about this chapter. Oh fuck. This fuckty fucking chapter!

(Fucking wam-besels!)

This has probably been the most grueling piece of the entire series to work on...and through. First off, the ending for this story has changed in very significant ways, multiple times, since I started Black Swan nearly a year ago (eleven months today!) When I wrote Once More Unto The Breach, things changed, but the ending was more or less the same as when it started out. And that was over the course of a year and a half and 450K words. Not so, with Black Swan. There has been a LOT of changes, a LOT of adaptations and back and forth and...ugh. Buuuut...it was all for the best. Really. As much as I grumble and groan, it was all for the best. The original ideas I had were just not as strong; that will be Black Swan's epitaph, if nothing else.

From a technical standpoint, this was probably the most challenging chapter of all. First off, I wrote it as a single 15,000 word piece, but that's getting split up. We were pretty close to publishing 38 when **NuQueerWarhead** , she of the editorial eagle eyes, spotted a MAJOR plot hole that needed serious fixing. Which I did, and which she was very happy with. She really saved my bacon there. But this morning, while I was doing the four to five hours of proofreading, I found a major continuity gaff that I kind of lamely managed to patch up but...ugh! Suffice it to say, I probably should have re-read this thing one or two more times but SHIT I am sick to death of it. I've been sitting on this thing long enough that if I don't get it out tonight, it's going to stay in the hopper a few more weeks, and I think I'd rather get through this hardest point, warts and all, than delay any further. This was one of those pieces where I just kept fixing and tweaking and changing, and rearranging, and if I didn't pull the trigger, it was going to drive me insane, worse than the False Dawn couplet did. So yeah...sorry if this one is not quite as good and polished. It should get easier from this point on. I mean, it's all written up at this point, it's just a matter of edit and polish.

Oh, and hey, look! **rowanred81** is back! Also, I'm going to give a shout out to a couple of other folks and their stories:

1) In "Executive Rewind" **Lonesomebard** dares to ask the question, "What if Max was a Generation Xer (my generation, and thus the best generation :-D) and somehow accidentally changed time, becoming President of the USA in the process. It's a lot of great fun!

2) **Supagreg** is doing something rather intriguing in his story "A Flying Artist"; an AU retelling of Grande Dame (with my blessing) from Daniel DaCosta's point of view.

Have a great week, folks!


	39. Take This Cup Away From Me

It'd been a wonderful couple of months.

Chloe and Max had settled into their own little state-of-the-art dream house, right on the coast of Fiji, just like her future self said they would. The house, along with the surrounding lot, was eye-scorchingly beautiful, with its own little private beachfront. The two of them immediately took a long, well deserved break from the craziness that'd swallowed their lives not all that long ago. Despite their young age, Max couldn't help but feel surprisingly adult; she and her girlfriend were buying furniture and decorations together, cooking meals, and taking long walks on the beach, hand in hand. Most nights, they'd be watching movies or reading books together. It was as if the world existed only for the two of them, an eddy of tranquility that kept out the mean and petty stupidity of the rest of the world.

Oh, and the sex, of course. The ridiculous amounts of that going on. Daily.

Shimiko and Reese were getting things taken care of, in terms of helping them get established in their new lives. Chloe's parents remained blissfully unaware of the truth of her current existence; the Zaibatsu had seen to it that they were undisturbed by any Damocles agents, and she'd even been able to give them a phone call to let them know she was fine. Of course, she had to weave an elaborate tale about a new life in Portland; someday, she'd have to tell them the truth, but that day was not yet here.

Max's parents were secured as promised, even though it gently broke her heart that they were now little more than birds in an especially shiny gilded cage. But they were well cared for and comfortable, and she visited them almost every day. They got along well, as if Ryan and Vanessa subconsciously remembered she was their daughter; there were even times Max swore she almost saw glints of recognition start to break through.

On the first day she was reunited with them, Max made sure to take Reese aside after her visit and force him to promise not to do anything stupid or rash, no matter how slow the progress went with restoring her parents memories.

" _This isn't on you, Meredith. I know you blame yourself, and there were some days where I blamed you too...but in the end, Martinet victimized the both of us! I will never, ever hate you for what he made you do, even if you think I should. I totally trust you and Shimiko, that you're going to do what you can to make this right. And that's what matters the most to me. So...so don't go doing anything crazy. Nothing risky that's going to end up hurting yourself. Okay? I don't want to lose any more of my friends or family. Have faith that sooner or later, we'll all figure it out. We have the time."_

She'd grabbed him by the arms, and looked him straight in the eye as she said the last part. She could see she'd touched something inside him. While it was obvious he'd still need the occasional reminder, she was absolutely certain that she'd started him down a different path. One that would save him from himself, and from the fate that the letter from the future spelled out.

As Max walked back towards her house, she smiled softly to herself in recollection of the follow up meeting she'd just had with Shimiko, barely an hour ago.

" _...I want to thank you again, Max. I realize how upsetting this must have been for you, the intelligence you obtained in this letter from your future self. After our initial discussion, I put my best people on it, and they've been monitoring the situation in Manhattan since. We don't have anything perfectly conclusive yet, but after two months of continuous study, I think we're seeing enough troublesome things to more-or-less confirm what you've told me. It's quite subtle though, slow moving. Had you not given us such specific warnings, it's possible it would have continued unchecked until after we passed the point of no return."_

" _Suffice it to say, we have some good ideas on how to contain, or at least slow the rate of progress. We can't stop it outright at the moment, but we can buy ourselves time to figure it out, make preparations. Perhaps even…." The older woman paused, glancing out through one of the windows, "...perhaps what you've helped us to discover will be enough to convince the new Director of S.O.A.P. to put aside our private little war and work with us."_

Max was feeling on top of the world, or pretty damn close to it. In a mere two months time, she'd gotten the girl, set Reese on a path away from self-destruction, and from the sound of it, helped prevent the absolute worst of the The Fracturing from happening.

Sure, there were still unknowns, and certainly, not all of the news was good; she still mourned for Camilla, and the actions her mentor was forced to take to ensure the world was spared the likes of Paul Martinet. But as far as her thoughts on the future? All was well.

 _I mean...I suppose I could try again. Take a picture, wait a few years, jump back and write another letter…_

But she knew in her heart, she'd never be able to go through with it again. No matter how many times she thought to make herself try, she simply couldn't muster the courage to take another peek into the future. She'd been given too bad a scare from the last time.

 _Besides, what's the point? If shit gets really bad and I have to change history again, I've been taking a lot of pictures, just to make sure! Yeah, it's best that I just not open that Pandora's Box, unless I have no other choice._

As Max walked into the bright, open, and airy living room of her house, she called out, "Heyyy baby. I'm home. Wanna do lunch and then go for a swim? Maybe we can walk in the jungle this afternoon, and find a nice palm tree to cut down and decorate for Christmas…"

She blinked, then walked around, peering into the various rooms on the first floor, wondering where the hell Chloe was, and why she wasn't answering. She checked the counters in the kitchen, and on the fridge, just in case a note was left behind. She started to head back out towards the front door when she gasped, nearly crashing headlong into her girlfriend.

Chloe was dressed in a blue bikini with a long, filmy silk wrap tied around her waist. Her normally fair skin was now toasted a golden and mellow brown from days of lying in the sun, and she smelled gloriously of coconut oil. It made her seem all the more sensual and exotic, and Max had to admit she absolutely loved the look on her.

But the somber expression on her face clashed with her colorful mode of dress. Her eyes were red-rimmed and puffy, as if..

 _...has she been crying?_

"C-Chloe?" Max stammered. "Are you okay? What's wrong?"

The other woman didn't answer at first. She had a distant expression, her gaze piercing, looking more through than at her. Before Max could say something, Chloe raised up her hand.

She was holding a letter.

"Did you write this?" she asked in a pained tone of voice.

Max's guts turned to ice, heart freezing in place for several beats as she took in the situation. She recognized the handwriting, and was familiar with the words, even if she still couldn't remember the actual act of writing them down.

Blinking once, Max all but whispered out, "I did." Biting down on her lower lip, she followed up with, "Chloe...where did you find that?"

Fresh clouds of sadness blew across Chloe's eyes as she murmured, "Didn't mean to. I was just putting away the laundry, you know? Trying not to be such a lazy slob anymore, like when it was just me living at home." She gave a thin, distant smile, and then motioned to the letter in her hand again, "But I tripped. Reached out to try and stop myself, and pulled out one of the drawers all the way. Found this. Guess you'd taped it to the back, but it flew off, and I couldn't help but start reading as I picked it up. I've spent all morning trying to figure out what to feel, what to say.."

Max silently cursed herself for not burning the damn thing. She almost did, but realized there was a chance she still might need to refer back to it while she was trying to keep the future from happening the way the letter foretold.

 _Should have put it in a better place, at least! Left it with Shimiko._

Taking a long, hard breath, Max said, "Sweetie, look. Yeah, I wrote that. I did the whole trick we talked about trying that first week, to see into the future. Remember in October, when I was stuck in the guest room with no memory of how I got there? I figured I'd do some recon. Only I didn't think I'd get twenty fucking years worth of it!" She reached out, grabbing Chloe's other hand, half-afraid she'd pulled it back, and so terribly glad when she didn't.

"Yeah, I didn't tell you about this because I didn't want you to be freaked out. Actually..." She stopped short. "I told you once. The night it happened. I mean, not so much what the letter said, just that I'd done this, and gotten a bad scare. I took back our discussion because - um - reasons. But you helped me get through my fear and my dread with it. And when I went to talk to Shimiko the next day, she said it was probably best that as few people as possible know about it. So I just...I didn't tell you. Again. Not that I had anything to hide, but because I didn't want to do anything more to put you at risk!"

Chloe nodded listlessly, and then slowly drifted over towards the plush leather sofa in the middle of the living room. She sank down onto it, and looked away.

"J-Jesus, Max! How can you be so fucking calm about this? About the world ending! And...and Arcadia Bay getting wiped out. And worst of all, about us breaking up!"

Max quickly dashed to her side, sat down and took her hand. "It's going to be okay now! I know it! I already talked to Reese, and I think I convinced him not to go down that road. And Shimiko says she would have missed this Fracturing thing if I hadn't warned her, but now she can slow it up. Maybe even keep it from happening." She took Chloe's hand and raised it up, kissing the knuckles as she continued, "Everything's going to be good, from this moment on. I promise. Really, that letter was probably the best thing to happen. And if something goes wrong, then I'll just go back, again and again, as many times as I have to, until we get it right!"

Chloe reached over to stroke her cheek and hair, her eyes watery as she asked, "How do you know that for sure? How do you know you're not making things worse, every time you change the present?" She swallowed hard, and glanced away from her. "I've been thinking about it for the past couple hours, about everything that led to this. Like...how I had you try to save my Dad again, and it fucked me up. How you and I died once, trying to get away from the Feds, and that's not counting all the _other_ times you saved me from dying that week!"

She reached up, wiping furiously at her teary eyes and added, "I keep coming back to the one point in time that caused all this. What set off the whole chain of events, all those years back." She bowed her head, and in a voice filled with guilt and close to cracking, said...

"I did this. All of it. It was...me."

Max was stunned, uncertain how to respond. Of every single thing she could have expected, Chloe's guilt wracked self-recrimination was the last. She wasn't even certain she'd heard her correctly.

"I...what...Chloe? How could you blame yourself for this? For anything that's happened? For shit in the future that probably isn't gonna even occur now."

Chloe sniffled hard, tears streaming slowly down her cheeks, her voice strained, but passionate. "Because it's the only thing that makes sense! I mean...think about it, Max, really stop and work it out for a minute. What happened, when you changed the past for the first time? And why?"

Max tried to laugh; it came out forced and overly nervous. "I was with you. I did it because you'd just lost William, and you were hurting badly. I wanted to do anything I could to make you happy. To make the pain go away. Oh God, Chloe, I can barely remember anything else that happened in that old timeline, but I still remember how much it hurt, to see you like that…"

Chloe's chest heaved with another sob. "That's m-my point, baby. That's the whole point. You did it all for me. You did it to make _me_ happy. Because _I_ was the one in pain. You were so in love with me, even though you were only thirteen, that you literally bent time itself to give me what I thought I wanted." Max started to respond, pausing as fingertips brushed against her lips. "Past couple of months, I've been reading a lot, about Specials. Shimiko was cool enough to let me into her science library. Can't say I understand half of it, but I'm not an idiot either, Max."

"I never, ever thought you were…" Max protested, until Chloe tenderly shhhed her.

"I've read all these case studies. People who got powers because of the situation they were in. One story, about a guy in 1976, who was drowning. Freaked out, Emerged, and all the sudden, he can survive without needing to actually breathe. And...and this other time in...uh...1993, I think? Woman trapped in a burning building, and she's so fucking desperate and afraid. Bam, now she's a cryokinetic and can make all the ice and cold she wants. I mean, it's not how _every_ Special goes through their Emergence, but a little more than half seem to be from shit like this; adapting to some immediate primal need or want."

"What does this have to do with us?" Max asked. In the back of her mind, she already knew the answer, but she wouldn't believe it until Chloe made it real.

"What if you only gained the power to control time because of me?! Think of it...you wanted...you _needed_ to make me stop hurting. And you got the power to do just that. They say Specials are the next phase of human evolution, but I've studied evolution, Max. So I know, not every mutation is... beneficial. "

Chloe burst out into a fresh wave of sobbing, "It's all my fault, Max! Can't you see? My fault you got taken away from your parents, my fault you were a prisoner in some hella fucked up hole in the ground for five years, _my fault_ that you've already lost a year off your life, and...and if all of this shit happens, with Reese, and this Fracturing thing, if there's even a chance it still happens." She pounded hard on the couch. "It's on me! God! I never saw it before. But finding that letter? It was a moment of clarity, Max. Suddenly, I understood everything that's happened. And why."

They sat together in silence, punctuated by Chloe's sobbing. Max couldn't help but feel the same sort of frustrated helplessness, the identical desperate need to make it all better, that she experienced back in 2008. She cleared her closed throat, and spoke quietly, "I never saw it that way, Chloe. How Cammie always explained it, and given all the other things happening to me, it sounds like I was going to Emerge, no matter what happened. Even if your Dad didn't die…"

Chloe looked up, giving her a sad, wet smile, and laughed harshly, "But no one's ever had your kind of power, Max. No one's even been close. Maybe under different circumstances, you would have Emerged with some awesome power that wasn't so dangerous. But I can see now, that some things aren't meant to happen. I thought I understood that when you brought me back those pictures and videos from the Other Chloe. But that was just the tip of the fucking iceberg. I completely, utterly understand what it all means now. What you have to do."

Max sat perfectly still as Chloe reached out, cupping her face.

"M-Max...I need you to go back. Just like that letter said. I need you to go back and stop it from all happening…"

"No!" Max cried out instinctively.

She couldn't believe what she was hearing. It was like she was in some sort of crazy, terrible nightmare. "Why? Chloe, this makes no sense! If I go back, you're gonna lose your Dad! I mean, that extra year you got with him..."

"I know," the blunette whispered out delicately. "I know. But...h-hey. I won't know what I'm missing. And I'll have the love of my life back. And she'll still have her parents...and…and...oh God...I know we'll still be together, no matter what happens. Just like the Future You said. We'll still fall in love, and be a couple, and have a happy ending. I know that'll happen! But I can't go on like this Max. If there's even a chance, more than absolute and complete zero, that the world's gonna get totally fucked up...I can't live with that! I can't go on knowing that all of this happened because the girl, the awesome, amazing, heroic woman, whom I totally do _not_ deserve, was only trying to make me happy." She then leaned in, and kissed her mouth gently. "Please Max. There's no point in waiting. Please. God, before I change my mind. I need you to take it all back. For both of us."

Max pulled back, faster than she intended. She hugged herself, the surreality of the moment making her head spin, and waves of panic tear up and down her spine.

"Chloe...I. I can't. I just...I can't! What about us, what about..?"

"Please. I know this sounds crazy. I know you're probably scared. Part of me is too. But I think you know this was always how it was going to end. How it has to! I can get the photo right now. It's just up on the bedside table…"

"I can't!" Max protested, louder this time. She rose up from the couch, and started to drift back away.

"Baby, please!" Chloe shouted almost, almost hysterical. "I don't want anyone else to die! Because of me!"

"I _can't_ " Max roared out.

Suddenly, she wanted to be somewhere, anywhere, other than here. Her eyes shut tight as she turned away from Chloe.

When she opened them again, Max suddenly found herself lying on her back in bed. Her head swam, as her brain struggled to process the sudden change in orientation. She silently screamed, her voice caught in her throat. Her heart thudded painfully in her chest, like an out of control jackhammer. She all but leapt on to her feet, instantly regretting it as the world briefly spun around her as she stumbled into the bathroom. She was certain she was about to vomit, and spent fifteen minutes curled up at the foot of the toilet, waiting for her body to make up its damn mind.

But it passed. The shakes subsided, the nausea and chills and cold sweat bled away, leaving her spent and exhausted. Five fingers slowly crawled up the onto the sink, pulling herself up to her feet. She looked into the mirror, her face pale and sallow, her eyes dark rimmed. It was all of five seconds before she turned away.

 _What the…? Holy shit. I'm still in Hawaii? Oh God. That wasn't just a dream, though. It couldn't have been! It was so real. I_ know _the difference between a dream and reality!_

She could still feel the last of the day's warmth fading from her skin, and a whiff of the coconut tanning lotion that Chole was wearing still lingered in her nostrils. She felt as awake and alert now as she did before she found herself lying in bed.

She checked her lifeclock: the time was a little after five-thirty in the morning, on October 12th, 2013. Beyond that, there was no new two month discrepancy in her objective and subjective ages, nothing to indicate that she had somehow done the impossible and rewound weeks instead of hours. She stepped out of the room and walked down the hallway, in order to confirm that none of the 'border limits' that were present during her photo-jumps were in place.

She returned to the bathroom, and hugged herself tight. She closed her eyes tightly, fighting back a sudden urge to cry.

 _Chloe. Oh shit..._

What was it she'd experienced? A prophetic vision? A crisis-induced temporary expansion of her powers - one of several she'd had since escaping S.O.A.P. - that somehow tossed her mind permanently back to this point?

She turned back to the mirror and stared long and hard at herself, before peering over past her shoulder to where Chloe's peaceful, sleeping form was curled up in bed.

 _Chloe. I love you so much..._

Gripping the edge of the sink, she slumped forward with almost all of her weight. In the span of a few heartbeats, she could feel it happening.

Her will, breaking at last.

This was a fight she was never meant to win..

It was crystal clear to her now. The future would always keep finding ways to punish her. Like Icarus, flying high, arrogant and free, Time itself would always find new and terrible ways to melt her wax wings and force her to come crashing down into the sea. Yes, she saved Chloe's father, but he died anyhow, and she lost her freedom and her parents in the bargain. Yes, she saved New York City, but it made her a murderer, and started a whole chain reaction of events that would ultimately destroy most of the world. And maybe, just maybe, she could figure out how to prevent that, but then she'd lose Chloe...or worse.

Sure, maybe she saved Kate's life, but who knew how long the Universe would let her have _that_ victory? Perhaps it would at least take pity on the fresh-faced and innocent Blackwell student. Max could only hope there were moments that Reality didn't mind having changed about, and prayed fervently that was one of them.

But in the grand scheme of things, in regards to whatever path she herself was on? All she could see now was the never-ending struggle. A constant chess game, an ongoing and eternal duel. She and Time, forever destined to trick and trap each other.

A line from an old movie she once saw as a small child rose up unbidden in her mind…

… _the only winning move is not to play._

There was still a naive piece of her: the eternal optimist. The part that wanted to fight, to never give up hope, to struggle until the very end against impossible odds. She brutally quashed those natural impulses down as hard as she could. She needed to do this, and do it fast. Go back, erase and rewind. Knock out the keystone, and let the whole framework of her life over the past five years fall apart. Just like her Future Self demanded. Just like the Chloe would beg...had already begged her to do.

But she didn't have to sit idly by and let it happen, either. She'd be in a time and a place where she could still make a difference. One last face-off. If the Universe wanted William Price to die in 2008, then so be it. But there was still so much more she could do, afterwards…

As she stepped out the door, her girlfriend was there waiting, eyes still blurry and half lidded. The first few rays of dawn shone softly through the window.

"Mmmm...Max? Baby? Y'okay?"

Max swallowed hard, feeling like she was pushing razor blades down her gullet. She nodded rapidly, pushing gently past, towards the chair where she inelegantly threw her clothes. Her hands dug quickly through, until she found what she was looking for: the picture of the two of them, from 2008.

She sat down on the edge of the bed, obscuring the photo from her girlfriend. She couldn't allow her to see what she was about to do until it was too late. She glanced at her lifeclock, figuring that knowing the time at this moment could be useful for what was about to happen

 **CURRENT LOCAL TIME: Saturday, October 12th, 5:57 AM (GMT - 10)**

Finally glancing over towards Chloe, she said, "B-bad dream. Must be all the stress and weirdness catching up with me at last. Sweetie, could...could you could sit behind me, give me a shoulder and neck rub?"

Chloe smiled tenderly, leaning in to give her a sweet, soft kiss on the lips before curling up behind her. Long, surprisingly delicate fingers moved to seek out the knots in her muscles. She leaned in and whispered against her ear, "It's gonna be okay, babydoll. I promise. We're gonna get through this. As long as we're together. We can get through anything."

Max barely nodded, finally turning the picturing around in her hand. Narrowing her eyes and focusing on it intently. Chloe continued to murmur encouraging words, her voice mingling in Max's mind with soft snatches of laughter from a younger version, years past. It was easier to push through this time; God knows, she traveled this particular path enough so that she could suss out the directions by instinct.

The photo was already fuzzing around the edges. Another few seconds, and she'd experience the now-familiar mental jolt, as her psyche was transported across the years.

She breathed out her last words in this timeline.

"I love you, Chloe Price. I always will."

* * *

 _Max immediately gets to work as she assumes control. With Chloe and William happily bantering away in the kitchen, it's easy for her to snatch the offending picture off the table and carelessly toss it into the fireplace. It peels, melting into sludge, sizzling quietly as it becomes ruined. She expects to feel something. Anything. After all, she's just created a massive causal paradox._

 _She has a lot of work to do, and not so much time to do it in. Then laughs at herself, as she realizes that no, actually, she has all the time in the world. However long it will take to pull off this one last trick._

 _It's easier to freeze the flow of Time this go around; there are no headaches or bloody noses, as if the Universe_ wants _her to do this. She thinks it takes her an hour of thought to decide how to proceed, but what is an hour, when hours are meaningless?_

 _Making her way over to a nearby desk, she retrieves a pen, a notepad, and several envelopes. The first letter she writes is her magnum opus, the grand narrative of her years at the mercy of S.O.A.P. and the Damocles Initiative. She straddles the line between highly detailed and overwhelmingly exhaustive, but it's critically important that if - hopefully when - Camilla receives the letter, it is nothing short of absolutely convincing. She gets the point across, why it's so important that Davies listens to the words of some random stranger from a timeline that no longer exists, and why Max needs her to try and save New York City, five years from now._

 _All while keeping it quiet from Martinet._

 _By the time she finishes, her fingers throb painfully from exertion, and her eyes ache from reading and re-reading what she's written. She gathers all of the pages up and deposits them into a large manilla envelope, with instructions to hand deliver the letter to Camilla's personal address before the year 2011; she figures that ought to be enough time for her younger self to figure out how to make it happen, and for her old mentor to do something useful with the information._

 _The next letter is short and to the point. Sealed in an envelope marked "MAX: DO NOT OPEN UNTIL JANUARY 1st, 2013." Hopefully she'll do so, this version of herself she's about to dramatically change the life of. In the process, maybe Stella Hill will be spared, not to mention preventing Kate from being pushed to the brink of suicide._

 _The final letter she leaves folded up, bereft of an envelope. This is the message that explains the other two. The one that ties all of the pieces together as neatly as possible. Max realizes that she has absolutely no idea if any of this is going to work; she's taking it entirely on faith. But at the same time, she knows herself. She thinks about what she might do, if their positions were reversed._

 _She's barely able to get to her backpack, sitting as it is in the front hallway, almost out past the border of where she can interact. It's a difficult reach, but she manages to tuck the letters away, hopefully to be discovered only after it's too late to do anything about poor William._

 _Max is so tired now. Spent. God only knows how long she's been up. She feels like she should be hungry, thirsty, needing to take a bathroom break. But there is only the pain in her fingers._

 _And eyes._

 _And heart._

 _She does her best to keep from mourning over what's about to happen. Again. For the first time. Restoring the chain of events that led to this long, strange saga in what had been, up to this point, an otherwise perfectly normal thirteen year-old life. She hopes against hope that things go the way they should, because she's obviously not going to get another shot at this._

 _She knows she'll be strong when Chloe needs her to be, in the weeks and months to come. She hopes that when the moment arrives, and her past self passes near that threshold of human evolution, she'll somehow keep herself from crossing over._

 _Crossing...over…_

 _Max reminisces over the horrible realization she made, when finishing the last letter._

" _What happens when the timeline straightens out? What...what if I wake up, in her body...and…"_

 _...and effectively kills the new version of herself. One that's hopefully happier; one who belongs in this timeline, one who deserves to go on to a long and joyful life._

 _Max feels ashamed, as she realizes that, despite the need for all of this, she doesn't want to die…_

 _...but she doesn't want to kill to prolong her life, either!_

 _She tried her best to warn herself. She prays that perhaps it'll work out differently this time. Maybe with some warning, and with her not wanting to go forward, and with the long-overdue restoration of the prime timeline, everything will go the way it should._

 _...but she's still scared to die._

 _This is the dichotomy that forces the tears from her eyes, and the soft, silent sobs from her chest. When she hears William heading out the door, she gasps and tries to pull herself together; Time apparently got tired of waiting for her to release her hold, and took the opportunity to reassert its flow._

 _She glances quickly over her shoulder, catching a brief glimpse of Chloe's father, for what she knows will be the very last time._

 _Chloe notices her; she walks over, concern and confusion written all over her face._

" _Hey, Max. Are you okay? What's wrong? Are...are you crying?"_

 _Chloe and the living room...it all fades away._

* * *

"It-it was a really nice service, Chloe. Your Dad - I mean - I think he would have..."

Max regretted the words as soon as they left her mouth; they sounded so weak, so stupid. As if the perfect way to wipe away Chloe's grief was somehow out there, and she was a shitty friend for not immediately divining what it was. The other girl seemed too lost in her mourning, tears flowing freely down her cheeks and mouth, to have noticed; for this small kindness, Max found herself grateful.

She instead focused on tightening her embrace, comforting arms wrapped around her best friend since - well, as far back as her memory could take her. It was barely two weeks ago, when they had been laughing and fooling around, Chloe and her father making pancakes and talking about their someday-future trip to Paris, before the call came in.

The one from Joyce.

The one that ended up killing William.

"Oh God. It hurts Max. It hurts so fucking much."

Chloe had tried to hold it together during the funeral - tried too hard, really - and it was finally gushing all those previous days where she should have been crying, freaking out, and angry, but wasn't - like she was just in shock - was now rising up to the surface. She dammed it up, and now that dam was cracking at last.

This was no dream; there would be no miracles. Wonder Woman wasn't going to swoop down and save everyone at the last second. There'd be no clever sitcom twist, where everyone realizes William's death was just a big misunderstanding. There was only what was in the here and now: his passing would mar the lives of all who had known and loved him.

For Chloe? There was a Daddy-shaped hole in her heart that would never close again.

Max stared numbly out at the wall, feeling so terribly small and helpless against the world, filled as it was with cruel indifference. She'd never dealt with death before aside from a housepet. Both of her parents, and all of her grandparents were still alive, not one of them yet ripped away from her. At the end of the day, she'd leave this room, walk away from Chloe and her Mom, back to her own home. To the loving embrace of her own mother. And her own, still quite alive father.

 _Not..fair. It's not fair! I'm a failure! I'm SUCH a failure, oh Chloe, I'm so sorry! What can I do? How can I make you feel better. How can I...?_

She stifled a soft groan, closed her eyes tightly as a wave of pain swept over her forehead, burrowing down acidly into her stomach, where it blossomed into another fresh swell of nausea. Max told herself it was just from all the shittiness of William's passing - not to mention the really, _really_ creepy letters she found in her backpack, the day after he died - blithely ignoring the fact that the headaches began a good month earlier, although they'd only rapidly grown in frequency and intensity since that day.

As she worked to figure out how to distract herself from her own physical pains, she squeezed Chloe a little tighter, tenderly stroking her sandy blond hair; then stared off into space, letting her gaze focus on a blank spot in Chloe's wall…

...she couldn't help but feel that something important was missing there.

 _No...really...there should be something…_

All at once, she felt supremely light-headed. Almost giddy. In one extraordinary moment the world pulsed around her, and she was absolutely possessed by the notion that if she concentrated hard enough, focused her will, she could do it! She could go back, and using her knowledge of events to come, change the past. She could spare Chloe and herself all the terrible heartache of William's tragic death. The universe would grant her heart's desire, but only for this one singularly unique moment in time.

All she had to do was wish hard enough. And just figure out _how_ to go back!

Her eyes darted around the room, desperately searching.

If only...if only…why couldn't she..?

And then her heart froze solid, and panic seized her, to the point where she wanted to burst out crying.

 _Oh...oh shit! Oh shitohshitohshit! It's happening! Just like the letter said it would! I didn't believe it before, not really! But now I do... I don't...understand! Don't think about changing the past….that's what it said. Don't think...don't think about….don't! Oh God! Make it stop! Please! Please make it stop! I don't want this! I dont!_

Max buried her face against Chloe's shoulder, dimly grateful that her friend interpreted her action as one borne of a shared grief. She willed herself to think of everything and anything but going back and changing the past.

So instead, she thought of the future.

She thought of the dark days yet to come. The hard, frustrating, agonizing times that she and Chloe would go through. Wondering how, and why, fate could be so cruel.

But they would go through them together. And together, they would be strong enough to survive.

 _I believe in you, Chloe! I believe in us! Maybe we can't change the past, but we can make a better future for ourselves! I'm going to be there with you, every step of the way. I promise…_

"...I p-p-promise!", she sobbed out.

That small window supreme potential faded at last, like a blooming flower opening up, but then closing after a few precious seconds, ultimately unnoticed and unappreciated. Max felt that moment, where the eyes of Reality were set upon her and her alone, quickly bleed away, her fear replaced with equal parts relief and regret.

She was absolutely certain she'd just missed her chance to be something spectacular, something more than merely human.

But at what cost?

* * *

Later that evening, as she was getting ready for bed, Max opened up her desk drawer and silently stared at the three letters sitting inside.

 _I gotta get a lockbox or something to keep these in. Now that I know that this is all real...for cereal._

She forced herself to pick up the letter on the top. It was still a bit wrinkled, having been originally crumpled up and tossed into the trash, then retrieved and smoothed out a week earlier. She opened it up, placed it down on her desk, and made herself read the words, truly understanding and believing in them now:

 _Dear Max,_

 _This must be really fucking weird for you, huh? Finding this letter, in your own handwriting. And there's this gap in your mind: maybe you recall writing these words, but you don't remember why. You might not even have realized you put it in your backpack, until you open it up, and there it is. That was me, from five years in the future. My mind, in your body, taking control. Cleaning up a few critical issues, and then writing these letters to you. Life is strange that way, I guess. Sorry, but it's about to get a lot stranger._

 _If everything goes the way I hope it does, you're reading this after William's death. I'm sorry. You have no idea how much that hurt me._

 _..no, you know exactly how much. Because you're me, and I'm you._

 _In two weeks from now, you and Chloe will be sitting in her room after the memorial service. She'll be in such pain. Now, this is the part that's going to be hardest for you to believe, but you need to. I can't even begin to explain how important it is that you do exactly as I say._

 _You're going to have a feeling - although that barely describes how powerful it will be - that you can go back and change the past. That you can save William. That you can end Chloe's pain, and make everything good, the way it should be. That you can be a hero...you can be_ her _hero. Your best friend in the whole wide world. It will feel like nothing you've ever experienced before._

 _I know this because five years ago - from my perspective - I was you, and I accepted this insane, crazy notion. There were headaches and nausea and generally just feeling like shit, worse and worse, over the past month. It all blew up on that one day. I was so desperate to give Chloe peace that I locked onto a picture hanging on her wall; it's one that doesn't exist anymore, the one that William took of you and Chloe on the day he died, and that I've now destroyed. In my timeline, I just sort of fell into it. Fell back into the past._

 _With my knowledge of what was going to happen, I stopped William from being killed. And then I woke up in a whole new timeline, where he was still alive, and Chloe...oh God! She was so happy! Even more amazing, I found I could now control the flow of time. I could rewind back a few minutes. I could fix mistakes and win bets. I always had the right answer to give in class, because I'd just rewind back and act like I knew it all along. And I could warn people, when something bad was about to happen to them._

 _I was an actual superhero! For real. And for a little while, they felt like the best days of my life._

 _But then the Government found me. I won't scare you with the details, but it was pretty terrible, the things they did to me over the course of five years. They wanted to turn me into a weapon, into their own personal oracle. I thought it was all worth it though, when they sent me out to use my now-massively enhanced powers to prevent a huge disaster from occurring. But it turns out that the way I tried to save everyone only made things worse. For the entire planet. Billions dead._

 _And they were the lucky ones._

 _I had to go back, Max. I had to undo everything. I need you to understand that something happened that was...amazing, and incredible, and fantastic...but so wrong, and deeply terrible. But at the same time, this is my chance. This is_ _our_ _chance to make everything better._

 _You're going to experience that same moment, that epiphany. Where you feel like you can do anything, and you understand everything, and the universe is going to be willing to grant you your fondest hearts desire._

 _DON'T CHANGE THE PAST! DON'T EVEN THINK ABOUT IT!_

 _Please! Accept that what's happened is supposed to happen. As shitty and unfair and stupid as it seems. The best thing you can do is be there for Chloe. Keep being the best friend that you've been to her, for all these years. Help her get through the pain and the heartbreak. Help her find a better future for herself. Never let anyone or anything keep you two apart! She is amazing, and the two of you together are the most fantastic thing ever._

 _So only focus on that future, Max. The future you two are going to share._

 _Now, I'm sorry, but I have to ask you to do two more things. You're probably freaking out like crazy at this point; I don't blame you, but I know you can be strong. A lot of lives are at stake. There's a big manilla envelope, with a Seattle address on it but no name. That's intentional. I need you to hand deliver it to that address. DO NOT mail it, that would be a really bad idea. But you need to get it to that address as soon as possible, certainly before the year 2011. You can just slip it under the door. Please don't read any of what's inside. I mean, I can't stop you, but believe me when I say it's for the best if you don't. I don't mean to put more pressure on you, but there are literally millions of lives at stake in the future and the only person who can possibly do anything about it needs all of the information in that envelope. Please, please, please deliver it._

 _And there's the last letter. Do what it says: open it, but not before January 1st, 2013. I mean, I suppose you could go and peek inside early if you really want to, but you won't understand it much until the time is right. There's also lives on the line, and a chance to save them._

 _Finally: this is the part I have been avoiding. I almost don't want to tell you, but I realize you have every right to know what might be coming for you. Let me jump to the point: This is not the first time I've 'taken over' your body, trying to fix the past. It's more like the fourth. So I have a fair amount of experience about how this aspect of my power works. While I am hoping and praying that this time it will be different, it's also possible, even likely, that on Saturday, October 12th, 2013 around 8:57 A.M. (if I'm remembering the difference in time between Oregon and Hawaii correctly...long story) your mind will suddenly be permanently 'overwritten' my mine. You will simply cease to exist as a person, and I will take over completely. It seems to be a side-effect of my ability, when I go back this way and change the past. I'm telling you, because I'm seriously hoping that somehow, you knowing this will tip the odds in your favor. Or at the very least, I think you have the right to know, so you can prepare for the end._

 _I am so, so sorry. Believe me, I don't want to hurt you. But it's too late now. When that day in the future comes, either nothing will happen, and you'll go on living your life, or suddenly, my mind will overwrite and destroy yours; I will wake up in this new timeline with no real memories of all the changes that have occurred._

 _Have the best possible life, Max. I mean that. I suppose I may see you in five years...but to be honest, I hope you never hear from me ever again._

 _Sincerely,_

 _Max Caulfield_

 _October 12th 2013._

Max suppressed the urge to burn the letter. When she read it the first couple of times, she almost laughed to herself. It sounded impossible to the point of insanity. As creepy and unnerving as reading it felt, there was a loud, strong part of her brain that clung fast to the comforting simplicity of Occam's Razor; surely, she was the victim of an incredibly elaborate practical joke.

But now? After today, after what she experienced, where she was certain she could have somehow found a way to go back into the past and change it, but was convinced to do otherwise?

Her Future Self's final words of warning echoed hauntingly in her mind.

Folding the letter back up, and putting it away in her drawer, she slowly crawled into bed and turned off the light. Hugging one of her stuffed animals to her chest, she stared up numbly at the ceiling for hours, tears dripping from her eyes. She didn't understand much of what was going on, but she knew she didn't want to die.

"Oh my God. What do I do now?" she begged.

* * *

 _ **A/N:**_ Hey folks...

So I thought to myself, "It's not like I need to stagger the publication of chapters so I have time to write. So why make folks wait until next week for this?" However, as I mentioned previously, it may be a good month before the three part finale is published. But my plan is to put out all three pieces over the course of one week, so that will require a lot of extra time to polish, and get 25K or more worth of words ready all at once. And work is going crazy, and then I have a two week vacation coming up, and **NQW** has her busy life as well. But yeah, we'll get it out as soon as we can :-)

As I mentioned in previous notes, the ending for this series has been extra-difficult to pin down over the last few weeks and months. It's very different from what I conceived of almost a year ago when I started, but I think it's better and makes more thematic sense, both within the context of the story itself, and as a reflection of the events in the game. At once point, there was a brief discussion about THIS chapter being the very end, and while the shock factor appeals to me somewhat, I just couldn't leave that many questions unanswered. I then had another idea, but that would have required a 100K to 150K word denouement - or more!, and 25K is big enough as it is :-) Anyhow, I'll go more in depth over the envolution of the ending process as I post the pieces up; I don't want to give away too much right now.

Suffice it to say both **Corentin IV** and **NuQueerWarhead** have made tremendous contributions in terms of ideas, critique, and brainstorming with regards to the ending, and things would be very different without their input.

I'm sure some folks will love the ending, others may..not so much. But I guess we'll find out in a few weeks, huh? :) And can you believe it? I'm starting to think there's a chance we might actually - if just barely! - crack the 300K mark by the very end.

Have a wonderful weekend!


	40. To Be A Mayfly

**October 12th, 2013  
8:56 A.M. **

Max sat cross-legged on her bed, staring out the window as she awaited the inevitable; the moment she'd spent the last five years dreading, hating, pleading for reprieve from, and ultimately accepting the inevitability of.

Today was the day she was going to die.

So naturally, she'd gotten up early.

She dressed as she normally would, but took the time to do her makeup. She then had a quick breakfast. She sat on the roof and watched the sun come up.

She did everything she could to make her last morning as pleasant as possible.

'Die' was perhaps an overly strong term...but then again, why not? Yes: die. Her body would, to the best of her limited knowledge, still be ticking. As far as everyone else in her life was concerned, Max Caulfield would continue pushing air past her teeth, but her mind would be destroyed. Overwritten by some interloping version of herself from an alternate timeline. But maybe it wouldn't be as bad as all that; maybe she'd just be displaced. Or she'd swap lives with this other version of herself - although given that the alternate timeline involved the deaths of billions of people, it didn't sound like such a great place to make a new home for herself.

All the while, hope sprang eternal, because of course she didn't actually _want_ to die; but at the same time, she'd spent so many months and years coming to a vaguely and occasionally serene acceptance of something that sounded very much out of her control.

But what was a human being, what was a sentient entity, other than a collection of memories and experiences that influenced the development of a basic personality? If she were dying of a terminal disease and someone came along, someone who could transfer her consciousness into a new body, everyone would say she continued to exist. But if the reverse happened, if her body was fine, but her mind was condemned to immediate non-existence, and then some other Max, with exceedingly different experiences came and took her body over, then naturally...she died.

Right?

That made sense. It had to.

 _God knows, there was no one else I could talk to about this._

She glanced over to the large cardboard box pushed up against the bed. Her collected legacy, a gift to the Max that would take over management of her life. From the letter she'd written back in 2008, it sounded like Future Max would emerge into this new timeline with no real memories of the last five years to draw upon.

 _Can only imagine how fucking scary and disconcerting that would be._

She hoped the journals would help her catch up. She knew so little about the woman who would be replacing her, but if they were anything alike - and she knew that of course they were - she'd make it through the difficult transition one way or the other. Still, a written narrative was a poor substitution for actually having lived those years, but she'd taken fastidious notes; it would have to do. And more importantly, those hundreds of thousands of words written in her own hand would be a memorial to herself, as well. When this future version eventually comes and spends so many hours reading through years worth of entries - as she knew she would - it would be like Max was still alive, in some small way.

Or so she kept telling herself.

She took a deep breath, staring at the clock on her desk as it counted the seconds away. At first she thought to brace herself, but then wondered what the point was; she didn't know what to brace herself for. The letter made it sound like Future Max hardly knew the exact specifics any better than she did.

Would it hurt? Would she feel her brain being overwritten, neurons sizzling in pain as she was destroyed, piece by piece, day by day, memory by memory? Maybe it would be like falling asleep, seized by some great lethargy, the blackness overwhelming her. Or maybe it would be like throwing a switch: one millisecond, she'd be herself, the next, someone else would be in charge.

The last option upset her the most; as if the Universe could be so cruel and uncaring as to not even stop and take note of her annihilation; that it would be too busy to pause for but a second and acknowledge that she had lived, that she had existed. And that her existence had mattered, even if only by some small measure.

 _Jesus. Anything has to be better than being wiped out and replaced in an instant._

Didn't matter though. None of it did. It was going to happen - probably - and there wasn't a damn thing she could do about it. God knows, in those early days, she'd tried. Denial was the most obvious tactic she'd drawn upon, but after that day in Chloe's room five years ago, when everything happened the way the letter said it would, it put to rest any reasonable doubts she might have clung to.

That just left the _unreasonable_ doubts. Those took a lot longer to come to grips with.

The second letter, warning her about Nathan Prescott and Mark Jefferson, the one she opened up at the start of this year, was a fresh reminder that this Alternate Max was writing to her from the future. It wasn't a quick thing, but she'd made a kind of peace with her fate over the years. More to the point, she came to accept what she could and couldn't change, and decided that it was best to live as full and rich a life as she could, given her limited time.

Time that was finally up.

Max glanced back at the clock again, surprised that the minute hand had swept past 8:57 a few seconds ago. She took another deep breath and tried to clear her mind of all thoughts...save for one. She closed her eyes and smiled, clinging to the comfort that thinking of Chloe brought her.

Her best friend. Lover. Girlfriend. They might as well be married, or at least engaged, even though neither of them had popped the question. Max was tempted to, in the last couple of months, even though it was illegal in Oregon. But with the great unknown that was her approaching end, she eventually realized that all that mattered was what was in their hearts.

There were no doubts there.

She breathed through her nose, in and out, trying to focus on that motion alone, as she had practiced so many times during her meditations. But she couldn't help but notice that time seemed to keep passing...and she was still here.

Cracking open one eye, she saw the clock was still reading 8:57.

 _...okay. What the actual fuck? That_ can't _be right!_

And then she felt it; something that was hard to describe, at first. The instinctive sense that the whole world had stopped moving, except for her. Shifting only her eyes, she glanced out the window and spotted a bird, stuck fast in mid-flight. Then she took note of the curious sensation that she was simultaneously existing and not existing; a feeling that as she sat here on the bed, in this particular space, at this particular moment in time, someone else was trying to do the same thing, but with only limited success.

She tried to rise up from the bed, but was unable to. She could still think, and see, and breathe, but otherwise she found herself now trapped in whatever temporal amber locked down the rest of the world around her.

She quickly discovered she could still speak. Without meaning to, she called out softly, "H-hello?"

" _...Hello?"_ A voice echoed back. Her own. She could hear it, both in her ears as much as in her mind. The feeling of being both herself and someone else who was her - and not-her - was slowly becoming overwhelming; and yet she was still able to differentiate herself from the increasing presence filling her personal space.

"Are...is that you? Are you the Max from the future? What's happening?" she asked.

After a long pause, a voice replied.

" _I don't know. It's never been like this before. One second, I was finishing up the letters. And feeling like total shit, afraid of what was going to happen when I jumped forward to the new timeline…and then...it took a while. Longer than it should have."_

Max felt as if she were perched on a pivot point; an intersectionality of perfect balance. She wasn't going forward, but neither was her other self. She couldn't help but think back to those weird boulders that balanced on tiny points, the ones she saw on a trip she took to a national park in Colorado.

" _I...I don't want to replace you. I never wanted to hurt you. I swear!"_

"Well...good." Max laughed lightly, despite herself. "I didn't really want to be replaced. I mean, I've accepted my fate. Mostly. Y'know, when I thought there wasn't anything I could do about it."

She was starting to gain a deeper, intuitive understanding of what was happening. Somehow, she and the Future - well, Alternate, now - Max had become quantumly entangled. Superpositioned, as it were. Both existing and not existing at the same time. A quantum wave front that was waiting for some x-factor that would collapse the superstate, and move things forward into a final configuration where only one of them existed at all.

" _I understood most of that. But how do_ you _know about that stuff?"_

Max smirked. "I did a lot of reading about quantum mechanics over the past few years. At first, I was desperate to find a Get Out Of Dying card. But then I realized I actually found it pretty interesting. I mean, not all of us got the smartest woman in the world to homeschool us." She paused, blinking. "Wowser. How the hell did I even know that?"

" _I can see some of it from your end too. Like things from your life are bleeding through to my mind, just a little bit. Man, this is really…"_

"...fucked up." they said in unison.

She laughed again, but then shook her head. "We can't stay like this. I mean, what happens from here? Something has to give."

" _I don't want to kill you! I don't want to overwrite your mind. Believe me, I just wanted to put everything back the way it should have been from the start. And...and at the same time I had to save…"_

"...everyone in New York City. I see it now. I understand. Damn, that's cray-cray." Another elongated pause passed between them. "Okay. So you don't want to kill me. And now that I know it's possible I can survive, I don't really want to die, either. No offense, but this is _my_ life. I - uh - I've got more right to it, and…"

She winced, immediately regretting the words. They sounded so peevish and self-serving. Cold and heartless, even. No matter how true they might have been.

She gave a soft sigh and smirked, as she remarked, "It seems neither of us can live while the other survives."

" _That not funny!"_

Max gave a thin smile. "Oh, c'mon. It's a tiny bit funny." She bowed her head. "Sorry. I just spent the last five years making peace with this huge, impending doom. You didn't get that luxury. I can see that now. But I still don't understand what's keeping us stuck together in this moment in time."

" _I…I don't..."_

Waiting for what felt like a whole minute, Max gently pressed. "Hello? You don't what?" She could sense that her other self knew, but didn't want to explain. Explanations would mean the Future Max would have to fully face the truth of the matter.

But the elephant in the room could no longer be ignored.

" _...I don't want to die…"_

Max swallowed hard, biting down on the inside of her cheeks. She could feel it, now: the existential fear. The primitive urge to survive. All those things that she herself had to contend and wrestle with, day in and day out. It was acting like an anchor, keeping both of them weighed down and trapped. But there was more. The Alternate Max's voice was a tiny thing when she confessed, filled with pathos and self-loathing. Her other self was suddenly consumed with burning shame, and an overwhelming sense of cowardice. The conviction that she could be so much better than this: she should be a hero!

Finding her own voice again, Max whispered, "It's okay. I understand. Really, I do. I never hated you in the end. And I finally stopped blaming you. I just...I know how you probably feel right now, and…"

What could she possibly say to make it any easier, or better?

And then at last, the balanced of the equation shifted. A single, infinitesimal lurch, but that was enough. Max understood what changed: in her mind, the Alternate Max was tested; given the hero's greatest challenge, and in that one moment of human frailty, she couldn't help but judge herself a failure. That one faltering moment was all it took; that brief lack of conviction, coupled with an equal amount of shame in wanting to cling to her own existence. In her moment of weakness, the same anchor that was keeping Future Max bound to this moment was now instead dragging her down into the abyss of nothingness.

Max could see it now; she was going to live! All her remaining days stretched out before her, each and every one a precious gift. Gifts that had been - until this very second - promised to someone else. There wasn't anything that could be done to stop the process outright; already, she could feel the Alternate Max drifting away, fading like a photograph left out in the sun. To exist one moment, and then to simply be no more the next.

It stirred something deep inside her heart. An angry passion rose up, churning in her stomach and rising up into her brain. She hated the idea of this - or any - version of herself dying in this manner: alone and unmourned. She hated it with every fiber of her being! It shouldn't have to be this way! _She_ was going to live! What was supposed to be the end was suddenly a new beginning. So couldn't she give up at least a little of that newfound time to what was essentially herself?

The world pulsed around her, in much the same fashion it did once upon a time in Chloe's bedroom. Five years back, when the Universe reached out and told her to close her eyes, make a wish, and promised to grant it. Five years back, when she turned away and begged the moment to pass her by. This time, however, she would fiercely seize this opportunity with both hands. She knew it had to end; that much was inviolate.

"But I'll be damned if it ends like this!"

Suddenly, Max shot up to her feet. Unprepared, and uncoordinated, she stumbled forward, landing on her hands and knees. She tried to stand, but found that she was having difficulty making her limbs work, as if all of her muscle memory was completely out of whack. Choosing instead to crawl over towards the wardrobe, she reached up, gripped the edge, and pulled herself up to her feet, her coordination improving by the second.

Finally turning and looking at herself in the mirror, Max - that is, the Max who went back in time, saved William, was taken captive by the government, held against her will, trained to be one of their agents, sent off to New York City, made it back home, found Chloe, and fell in love - gasped at the image staring back at her.

The body was changed; that was the most obvious difference. Clearly the Max of this timeline kept herself in shape, but not much more than your average eighteen year old would. Gone were the hard, defined lines, along with the chiseled abs and arms. Missing was the lean, thin, almost hungry look.

 _Gah! That explains why my body feels so weird! Huh...how come I never noticed the difference when I jumped back to 2008?_

Her hair was styled dramatically: dyed black, cut short in the back, almost shaven, with long, heavy, vibrant pink bangs that draped down to just above her breasts. Dark kohl outlined her eyes, with subtle hints of blush and lip paint adding color. Her nails were lacquered in hues of lilac and black, with a fascinating 'cracked' look to the polish. Whoever this other Max was, she knew a hell of a lot more about using makeup than she herself did. Not to mention fashion, although her tastes were a bit...unusual. She was dressed in a tight black and purple t-shirt for some band called The Birthday Massacre, along with a pair of tight fitting dark indigo canvas cargo pants. The pockets of the pants were replete with designs of various characters from My Little Pony, and the legs were tucked into a pair of knee high Doc Martin boots. A black leather choker encircled her neck, from which hung a silver yin-yang charm.

 _Goth, but still sorta perky. Huh._

And that's when it hit her.

 _Oh...oh shit! I took over? Somehow? Or she gave up? No! Fuck no! I didn't want it to be this way! Not like this! All because I got scared, I was weak, and told her...I said...because I didn't want to die! That must have been enough to force her out, and let me take her place. That refusal to let go of my life. And now….now she's dead and gone because of me, and…!_

Before Max could work herself up into a complete emotional breakdown, she felt a gentle voice whisper across her brain.

" _Sunrise."_

"Wh-what?" she breathed out.

" _You have until sunrise. Then I have to take it all back. Forever."_

The voice left her as quickly as it came.

And then Max understood perfectly.

She was still going to die; stop existing. Or at least stop existing in this timeline. Her end was coming, and there was nothing that could be done to prevent it. But the Other Max…

 _...no. The Max who_ belongs _in this timeline…_

...somehow found a way to take what would have been a sharp, singular end point and instead draw it out into a long, lingering line that would stretch on into the horizon, where it would ultimately fade away. She had no idea how she knew this, only that she was possessed of the realization that whatever 'unspent potential' that was unlocked in 2008 by the Emergence-That-Never-Happened had finally been cashed in, making all of this possible. The Universe had patiently waited over the years, insisting that the Max of this timeline make _a_ wish. A wish for something that she felt deeply, passionately enough about. Like letting her stay, just a little bit longer.

And in that belated moment, the rules of the game were changed. Just this once.

Leaning hard against the dresser for support, it was all Max could do to keep from sinking to her knees, as the enormous weight of the situation pressed down against her. Bowing her head, she swallowed, feeling small and powerless; quite literally, in that she could sense that her abilities were missing. She could feel herself trying to push down on an accelerator in her brain, but there was no more car attached to it.

She looked back up into the mirror, into eyes that were almost not but entirely her own, inevitably reaching the obvious conclusion.

 _Well...this is it, Max. This is the end. You've got almost an entire day. So how're you gonna spend it? Curled up in this room, crying and desperately trying to find a way to cheat fate, or...or are you gonna see as much as you can? Find out if it was worth the sacrifice?_

"Chloe...I...I could call…"

She glanced over at a framed picture sitting on the dresser. She reached over to grab it and brought it up for a closer look. It was her - well, New Max - looking just a little bit younger. Her hair was styled almost the same, but she was wearing an understated but glamorous looking black leather bandage dress paired with dark fishnet hose. She was smiling brightly, arm in arm with Chloe, ever dapper in a tuxedo cut for her feminine form. She had little trouble recognizing the blue - er - pinkette; while her hair was still cut close to the same style as in the old timeline, it was dyed pink with black fringe: the inverse of Max's.

 _Wow...what is this? Senior prom? Did Chloe stay in school? She would've graduated before me. I guess she took me as her date. We look so fucking happy!_

She hugged the picture to her chest, blinking away the tears welling up in her eyes before glancing down at her fingers and noticing the silver claddagh ring on her left hand: heart pointed down in the 'taken' position. She held it up in the dappled sunlight, smiling to herself as she watched it sparkle and glint.

 _Oh wowser. We've probably been together for years in this timeline. God, where do I even go, right now? How do I find out everything that's happened?_

Carefully placing the picture back down, she turned and started to walk towards her desk with the intention of checking the laptop computer; she nearly tripped on the oversized document box that rested against the bed. She might have continued to pass it on by, until she noticed what was written on the top, in black blocky letters.

 **TO FUTURE MAX**

She kneeled down, removed the top and placed it on the bed. Inside were piles of composition books. There was a folded piece of paper on top of what must have been many years worth of daily remembrances.

She opened it up and started to read:

 _Dear Max (of the Future!)_

 _If you're reading this, then I guess you were right. I'm gone, and you've been forcibly moved into ownership of my life._

 _The first thing I want to say is that I don't hate you, because that would be like hating myself, right? I think that was the hardest thing for me to really grasp in the end. That you weren't this shadowy antagonist who was entirely unlike me, and who was chasing me down over the years like a demon. We are, or we were, exactly the same. At least until that point in 2008, when you zigged where I zagged - thanks to your warning - and did whatever you did in Chloe's room that gave you your powers. The ones that let you save William, and made the government kidnap you, and brought us back to this point right now. I've spent so much time, trying to imagine what all of that must have been like, and what it would do to me if I were in your place. All so that I could better understand you. And while I don't really 'get' your experience, I definitely 'believe'. I mean, hell, after what I felt that day, how could I not?_

 _I went through all those stereotypical stages. You know the ones? Denial, which came and went for the first few weeks. Anger...I don't know. You know me. We're not exactly the most angry person in the world, except when we are. But it bled through in ways, over the years. I think I jumped to bargaining pretty quick, and stayed there a long time, reading what I could about quantum mechanics and time travel, desperate to find a way to 'escape' what was coming._

 _And then depression? Yeah...I hid that as best as I could, because who else would understand what I was going through? Fortunately, being a teenager is a really amazing cover for deep brooding. But there was a summer that I made myself work as a volunteer at a hospice. Little tasks here and there: cleaning up, reading to the patients, helping to feed them. I told myself that I was doing it in order to see what people who were facing the end did, how they made peace with it. But the truth of it was that I was only just wallowing in it.. As if being surrounded by mostly old people waiting for the end let me say 'Yeah? Fuck you. I'm gonna die when I'm eighteen, and I don't even have any hope left. You at least got to live a long time!" I got addicted to all that quietly smoldering rage and self-pity_

 _Funny thing, the hospice is also what also lead me to acceptance. There isn't some magical story about a dying child that touched my heart, or a grandparent who accepted their terminal cancer with grace and dignity. No: it was watching the failures. The people who never found solace before they died. Who cried and swore and begged and pleaded in the dead of night for death to pass them by so they could go on living. I saw so much of myself in those people. And one in particular. That's when I finally realized something important: I didn't want to end my life that way. Locked up in my room, pushing away the world, curled up and crying day after day, until the end came at last._

 _I finally accepted that there was probably nothing I could do. It was more likely than not that I was going to die. So fuck it, I might as well make what few years I had left count. Fill them with as many amazing experiences as possible. Take chances. Live twice as bright, for half as long. Push past my natural nervousness, and be more like the Max I wanted to be. If I was doomed to be a mayfly, I was going to be the best damn mayfly possible._

 _It was good. Great, really. Fantastic. I took some semesters abroad. I tried crazy new foods, I pushed myself to be the best photography student I could. I made friendships with as many people as would let me, and did my best to not fall into the mean, petty, stupid bullshit that most teenagers wallow in._

 _(Okay, I was a little petty, sometimes. But better than most.)_

 _And I opened my heart and my soul to my best friend; our last two years together have been absolutely amazing._

 _In this box is a daily record of the past five years. At first I did it because I thought writing everything down would help me organize my thoughts and figure out what was going on in my head, and then how to escape what was coming. But there was a point where I remembered that you said something to the effect that if and when you took over, you wouldn't have any of my memories of the last five years._

 _So here they are. Everything that was my life. All my hopes and dreams, my fears and insecurities, my triumphs and tragedies. All that you'll need in order to fake it until you make it. I even created a color-coded index system, along with a special commentary volume, so you can bring yourself up to speed as quickly as possible...you're goddamn welcome for that! (LOL)_

 _It's your life now, Future Max. Just do me a favor, and don't fuck it up, please? If you really have 'killed' me and taken my place, don't let yourself get pulled under by the weight of it. I believed you in the end, when you said you didn't want this to happen. That you were warning me in the hopes that somehow it might prevent this from happening. So don't mourn more than you have to, don't push people away, don't freak - okay, maybe freak a little - but don't tear yourself apart with guilt. I know that's asking a lot ,because I also know if our positions were reversed, I'd be totes insane with self-loathing and blame right now. Obviously, there'll be an adjustment. A big one. I can't even imagine what that whole process is going to be like for you. But all these journals are the best - and only - help I can give you._

 _So go. Live. Be awesome, and truly excellent. I've given you a mind-blowingly cool head start, so make the most of it._

 _Yours forever,_

 _The Artist Formerly Known As Max Caulfield_

 _P.S. Yeah, so like I said earlier, Chloe and I are in love. Deeply and insanely. I don't know what it was like for you, if you ever felt the same for her that I do now. If you only do one thing for me, you'll learn to love her too! She is simply incredible. She gave me so much strength, and a model to aspire to over the years. She doesn't deserve a single minute of heartbreak. But something tells me that if you_ are _me, that if you gained your powers because you wanted to make Chloe stop hurting after William died, then this'll be easy for you._

 _Have a great life together._

The tears flowed freely, dripping off Max's cheeks and staining the letter clutched in her trembling hands. She was bowed over, as sobs wracked her body.

 _Oh my God….she prepared. She actually prepared. For everything. She was so fucking strong and brave in the end. Why couldn't I be?! Why did I…_

She made herself stop. Then laughed through her sorrow. What was the point in trying to compare herself to...herself? What good was there in bemoaning what she felt was her lack of courage? Clearly she had it; all that potential was inside her, all along. It was just a matter of circumstance and development.

Putting the letter on the bed, she whispered to herself, "Well. I'm here. I've got maybe twenty one hours. There's no way I can avoid the end." She looked down at all of the journals, and picked up the first one, marked 'October 2008 - May 2009'.

"So let's find out what what awesome shit I'm dying for."

* * *

 _ **A/N:**_ Hey folks. :-) I bet this is a lot quicker than you were expecting.

I decided to work like a fiend this weekend, and just take the finale solo. No beta reading, no outside editing, just me reading and rereading and trying my best to polish and perfect single-handedly, so any goofs are entirely on me. But it was kind of driving me nuts, having had the ending more or less done for weeks now, really, and I wanted to finish up. While the autist in me would have found a certain satisfaction publishing the last chapter on the one year anniversary of this series, as was my original plan, and while the smartest move would be to wait and have someone who was not me look through with critical, judicious eyes, I just didn't want to keep people waiting that long. I felt like the iron was nice and hot, and people would appreciate getting all of the remaining chapters this week.

So welcome to "The Last Day" a nearly 30,000 word plot arc that wraps up the series. I hope folks like it; I realize it probably won't be everyone's cup of tea, but I'm pretty satisfied with how it resolved. It gave me a chance to try something I've been aching to do for the past three years...

Of the three, I find this to be the weakest chapter of the arc; it's the shortest (the next chapter will be the longest in the series) and...I kind of wish I could have delayed out the question on who would live and who would die much closer to the end. As I mentioned before, actually locking down and proceeding with an ending for Black Swan was probably the greatest and most difficult challenge I've ever faced, in terms of writing. It has changed a LOT from my original idea. Even once I knew that Max was going to take it all back, and try to influence the future to develop differently, the next problem was who would live and who would die. Originally, Max wasn't going to say a damn thing, and just pray and hope she didn't overwrite the new Max's mind. New Max would be sleeping late in October 2013, and that would allow her and Swan Max to talk...Swan Max would approach her in a dream, and tell her the story of her life, before dying, and New Max would wake up, thinking it was all only a dream. There was a certain poignancy in that, but not enough emotional punch.

Then I thought that Swan Max would kill off New Max, and the rest of the ending would be how to deal with that...but it made the ending become VERY DARK, and potentially take forever to wrap up. Max was going to spend years in therapy and almost lose Chloe in the process, but the story would have ended 16 years later with their daughter teleporting away as she Emerged on a plane that was crashing down. Neat but...still missing something.

I liked this the best, the notion that New Max thought she was going to die, and acted upon that. The belief is just as important as the actual event. I hope you enjoy finding out exactly what happened to New Max, and how it shaped her as a person in the next chapter, which should be out on Wednesday. And then the grand finale on Friday.

Have a good day!


	41. Look Back On Time With Kindly Eyes

_**AN:**_ _Something to keep in mind with this chapter. I've said this before multiple times, but just as a reminder: in the Black Swan AU, Blackwell is not only a senior-year academy, but a full four year day and boarding student high school. Anyhow, enjoy!_

* * *

Max spent the next two to three hours reading through the journals. There were times she'd jump ahead, focusing primarily on locating the answers to some of her most burning questions, while bringing herself up to speed on the bare essentials. She wanted to call Chloe and especially her parents on the phone, but before she could do that, she needed to know how to keep from immediately tripping up when talking to them.

 _Too bad I can't read through all of them. I mean wowser, what a huge collection, but...I don't have all the time in the world. Not anymore._

* * *

 _ **October 18th, 2008**_

 _I'm gonna start keeping a journal today; I found the one Grandma gave me last year for Christmas, you know, one of those gifts where you have to go all "Oh yeah, Grandma, thanks, wow, neat!" when all you really wanted was a Playstation? Well, laughs on you Max, because now it's useful._

 _I think if I'm going to get through this, if I'm going to figure out what the hell is happening to me, I need to write down as much as I can, each and every day; that way, I won't miss any details along the way, stuff that might help me out later on. Especially if I think I'm going crazy and can't trust my own mind, but...I'm jumping ahead._

 _It's been a week since William died and, God! How screwed up was all that? One minute, he and Chloe are laughing and cooking in the kitchen, another, he's walking out the door to go pick up Joyce from work; gets killed in a car accident on the way. I just wish I could remember what happened that day. I mean, it's not like I don't have_ _any_ _memory of it, but it's real fuzzy, like I was just a total space case or something. I remember William showing off that camera - God, I loved that instamatic of his! It's really cool, even if nobody likes film cameras anymore. Anyhow, I remember he takes the picture of me and Chloe, and then...I don't know. I just…_

 _Why can't I remember? It's not like a blackout, but it's not_ _not_ _like a blackout, either._

 _The next thing I solidly remember is Chloe asking me if I'm crying. And I'm all like "what the hell?! Are there tears on my face?" and then I notice my fingers hurt! All cramped up like I was writing a big long essay. I try to play it cool and tell her something like 'allergies' or some stuff. Anyhow, I get my act together, because w-t-h? But it's all cool, and we go and watch movies and finish off lunch. You know, typical awesome Saturday stuff with typical awesome Chloe!_

 _Still, my fingers hurt, and I can't get a strong memory of what I was doing for the past few minutes. I didn't even realize William left. But a couple hours later, we get a phone call…_

 _And then it's all kind of a blur, again._

 _Because I can't believe it. Even a week later, I can't ..._

 _Chloe's dad is dead._

 _Poor William. And Chloe, and Joyce…_

 _There was a car accident on his way to pick up Joyce. Killed him right on the spot. And Chloe totally lost it. Completely. Just freaking, and at one point, she starts kinda...yelling and blaming her Mom, when Joyce comes home and...ugh. I know I should be trying to make myself write down everything I can remember. Every. Thing. But it hurts too much right now. I mean, I have time...I'll do it all later._

 _But I went home that night, in a total zombie daze. I mean...Jesus Christ. What do you say? "Sorry your dad is dead." doesn't cut it. I didn't want to leave her, I wanted to stay with her forever, but Chloe was totally hysterical, and Joyce told me I needed to give them some time together alone; I guess I see her point._

 _When I got home, the worst of the kinks in my fingers were gone, and I'm going through and opening up my backpack to grab a couple things and that's when I find them._

 _The letters._

 _It still seems like a dream, when I think about it now, you know? At first it's just all "Weird. Where did that come from?" And then I start reading it, and I'm like weird….weird...what the...what the hell? Okay, no...no way. No way!_

 _It's a letter to me...from me. And it's talking about how William is dead, and how once upon a time, a version of myself from the future went back into the past and stopped it from happening, but it made the world end..._

 _This is nuts! This is insane, impossible bull!_

 _I don't believe it._

 _I mean, duh, how can I? Would you?! But it's all in my handwriting! Suddenly I'm all 'ding ding ding, that's why your hands hurt. You went nuts and started writing crazy letters to yourself.'. For an hour, I'm pacing in my room, totes freaking out, and panicking and all 'Oh shit! Oh damn! I'm going crazy! This is it, I'm psychopathic, or schizophrenic, or multiple personality...whatever!'._

 _So okay. Fine. I tell myself then that I'm losing my mind, I'm suffering from...I don't know what...but if it's all some sort of stupid multiple personality disorder shit, how did I know that William was going to die before it happened?_

 _Answer that for me, would you?_

 _For the past week, I've felt like this is all a huge, terrible,_ _unfunny_ _joke. Someone's playing a huge prank on me. I can't figure out who, or how, or why, but I'm still convinced this is a gag. Like any second now, Ashton Kutcher is gonna jump out of my closet and be all, "Ha ha, Max! You're Punk'd, bitch!". And William dying is gonna be a joke, and he and Chloe and Joyce, and my parents, and the whole world were in on it._

 _All just to make me feel stupid, and dumb, and laugh at me!_

 _I'm not great right now because eff-ing duh! I think a couple days after I found the letters, I locked myself up in my room, for cereal, and I mean hours and hours. I refused to speak to anyone, because I was angry. I'm still angry! I know it sounds paranoid, but someone is screwing with my life; my life and Chloe's, and I want to know who! Who's doing this to me!?_

 _I'm gonna mess you up, if I ever find you!_

 _My fingers are starting to hurt again. Oh God, I think my fingers hurting are giving me a panic attack. I seriously jumped back, like I was gonna have another episode of whatever my problem is. Gonna stop now._

 _ **October 20th, 2008**_

 _Yesterday,,I threw the letter away in my garbage one not in an envelope, the one from my future that's telling me I'm gonna die. Did it, and actually started to feel a little better, like I was turning away from this crap, stepping off the drama llama, and getting a hold back on my life._

 _But then had a nightmare, woke up, freaked out and dug around in the trash before Mom could put it out on the curb. How nuts is that? That I took it back? Like I'm afraid if I get rid of it, let_ any _of this evidence go, I'll regret it. I'll miss something important, something I need!_

 _ **October 21st, 2008**_

 _I would never tell Chloe this, but it's almost been a relief, going through everything so far with her, after William died. When we're together, and I'm helping out her and Joyce any way I can, I feel like I can put aside the insanity and craziness in my life, and focus just on the one good thing I have. Focus on being there for Chloe, and supporting her. I've always been her best friend, and now is the time for me to absolutely prove it. It hurts so much, even now, to see her in pain like this. Feels like we're connected somehow. Part of me wants to...like...not be around with her, because it's so overwhelming. But it hurts way, way more_ not _to be with her right now, too! How could I live with myself if I abandoned her, just because things got super stupid hard!_

 _So every day, I'm gonna be here for Chloe and her Mom._

 _It's better than the night. At night, I'm trapped in my room, too afraid to go outside. Too afraid to do anything other than focus on the fact that I'm apparently losing my damn mind, and writing letters telling myself I'm gonna die!_

 _ **October 25th, 2008**_

 _Max! Listen to me! Listen to yourself. This has gone on long enough. You need to accept that something is very wrong in your brain. You've been trying to ignore it for the past month, but there's been all those headaches. And feeling sick, like your stomach is flipping out._

 _I tried to tell myself that it's all because of William's death, but I need face the facts:_

 _This started before he died._

 _Oh...God. What if it's a tumor? What if it's all a brain tumor, and I'm dying! Chloe is gonna lose me and her Dad, all in the same year!_

…

…

 _Okay Max, calm down. CALM DOWN!_

 _You're not gonna die, there is no Max from the Future! You just blacked out and wrote those letters_ after _William died, because like, you had a mental breakdown. You can't trust your memories._

 _You can't trust yourself._

 _But yeah, if there's something wrong in your head, you need to get help as soon as possible._

 _When I get back from Chloe's house tomorrow, after the memorial service, I'm gonna do it. I'm gonna tell Mom and Dad that I'm in trouble, and I need them to get me professional help. I'll show them the letters, so they believe me. I mean, they'll do it, right? They'll get me the help I need, because they love me._

It'll be okay. I'm gonna get help. And then I'll get better. I should be proud I'm asking for it, while I'm still sane enough to. That I'm not trying to hide it, like an idiot would.

 _ **October 26th, 2008**_

…

 _I don't even know how to start this entry._

 _Except to say: it's real. I think I believe it now._

 _It's all real._

 _I was absolutely ready to tell Mom and Dad, you know? That I was breaking down and hallucinating or something. It made sense, it really did. I had it all figured out, what I was gonna tell them, tonight._

 _But then it happened. Just like the letter said it would! I don't even know how to explain it, but the letter came true. There was this one moment where I felt like I could do absolutely anything...everything! And if I wanted to go back in time and save Chloe's dad, then damnit, I could do it._

 _I had the power!_

 _But the letter told me not to do it. That the government would find me, that I'd destroy the world. I didn't believe it until now. I thought it was a joke, or I was dying from brain cancer, but then it happened, and I freaked! I got damn scared! So I just held onto Chloe and wished it would all go away. I thought about the future, about how we'll always be friends, no matter what. Just like the letter said, that I need to always stay together with Chloe. She needs me right now…_

 _...and I really need her, too._

 _It's funny. When you think about it, today should actually be the final proof I need to accept that I'm all crazy-go-nuts. That I'm hallucinating and doing this all to myself. But I can't explain it any better, other than I_ believe _now. It's as if God parted the clouds and zipped down on a sunbeam and said, "Hi, I'm your Supreme Creator. I just came down to say hello, and maybe ask you a couple quick questions."_

 _So now? I absolutely believe it's real, and that what the letter said was right. As illogical and impossible as it all sounds!_

 _And that means…_

 _Shit. Am I really going to die?_

 _Five years is a lot of time, though. Yeah. I have time. I think? This other me, the one from the future, said she didn't want to kill me. So I have time, to figure it out, how to beat this. She wants me to! Maybe she couldn't tell me everything, but I think this Future Max left me clues in that letter._

 _And maybe I should listen to her, and not open up those other two letters, despite how close I've come to doing just that!_

 _It's weird, you know? Totally. Part of me is oddly calm. All the headaches are finally gone, and so is my nausea. So it can't be a brain tumor, right? That wouldn't just go away like that. But I feel different too, somehow. Not like, "Wow! I'm totally changed!" but just…_

 _...of course I'm different._

 _I've seen…_

 _...well...shit people aren't meant to see. I guess?_

 _Maybe I did see God._

 _Maybe it was a test, and if so, then I passed it. I must have passed it, just like my future self told me to do! I mean, I was focusing on the future and not the past, when it happened._

 _So...maybe I don't have to die now._

 _That makes sense._

 _Right?_

 _ **November 29th, 2008**_

 _It's been a little over a month now, since that day in Chloe's room. Yesterday was Thanksgiving. Not sure what I'm supposed to be feeling thankful for. Well. I don't know if that's totes true. Still no new headaches like before, no feeling sick. And Chloe and Joyce came over, so they wouldn't be alone on the holiday.  
_

 _Even with all the darkness and heavy shit hanging over us...it was nice. You know? It was really nice, like all of us together were a family._

 _That would be cool, Chloe and me. Sisters! Except we don't really fight or get on each other's nerves, so some days, I feel like we're even closer than sisters._

 _But outside of spending time with Chloe, I don't feel much. Of anything, really._

 _Easier that way, I think. Someone has to be strong for Chloe. She's struggling so hard. I mean, it's only six weeks, but she still cries a lot. Don't blame her._

 _Like I said, easier...not to feel anything._

 _ **December 8th, 2008**_

 _It snowed today. Not a lot, just enough to dust. Chloe and I sat together at Lighthouse Point and watched it fall. We sat there, hand in hand, and didn't say much of anything._

 _It was nice, though. Really nice. I think she even smiled, a tiny bit. But then she started crying again._

 _It's been a couple of months now. I don't want to jinx it, but sometimes I feel like things are maybe getting back to normal. I'm not locked up in my room every night, like I used to be. I mean, the fear is still there, but I'm too tired and burned out to feel scared right now. But I can't ignore it, I can't just believe that it's not coming. October 2013. I made myself think that for a few days after the...I don't know what to call it. Awakening? Epiphany? Uplifting? I was convinced that I somehow passed this divine test and I was saved._

 _Then I stopped. I realized how stupid and dangerous it was to pretend the end isn't coming. I have to do whatever I can to fight or prepare for it._

 _The most important thing? I think as long as I'm with Chloe, I can get through whatever's coming my way._

 _ **December 16th, 2008**_

 _Can't believe it! Dad is getting a new job, but it means we have to move to Seattle early next year. I want to be happy for him, it's a big promotion, and I guess it was a really sudden, out of the blue thing, but...but I don't want to leave Arcadia Bay! I don't want to lose_ any _of my time with Chloe! Especially not if…_

 _...if I'm dead in five years._

 _Chloe freaked when I told her, and I don't blame her. I'm angry too. I told her...I promised her, I'm gonna call or email her every day. And try to get back during school vacations. God, I could have killed her though, 'cause she was all 'Yeah, you know you won't keep up with it, and you'll forget about me.' Ugh! Jesus, I mean, I know she's still upset about William, but what about me?! I got so furious with her, I almost told her what's gonna happen to me._

 _What...might happen to me. Someday._

 _I didn't though. Because hah, best friend or not, she won't believe me. And, she doesn't need that shit if she did. Although, God, I wish I could tell one person. Just o_ _ne_ _person who would believe me, and maybe try to help me._

 _But I can't._

 _So I just told her something like 'challenge accepted'. I'm gonna be the most awesome best friend ever. You just wait and see, Che._

 _ **February 2nd, 2009**_

 _I started my new school today. Big freaking yay. They're all a bunch of big city snobs anyhow, already people were giving me crap about being from a small town in Oregon. Screw them all. I'm not gonna be around with them any longer than I have to. Know why?_

 _Because I figured it out already! My plan to go back!_

 _I have to finish up seventh grade, and ugh! I have to get through eighth as well, here in Seattle. But tonight, I made Dad promise, like pinky swear and everything, that if I apply to Blackwell and get in for freshman year, he'll let me go as a boarding student. I think he only agreed because he figured it's a promise he won't have to keep. Like I'm going to settle down and actually learn to like it here in 'The Big City'. Forget that! I'm gonna totally be the best student in that dumb new school, and I won't ever let him forget what he promised!_

 _I told Chloe today, on the phone. It cheered her up a little...I think? At least she wasn't shitty enough to act like I wasn't gonna do it for real. Probably because I've totally been writing her every day, just like I said I would, so now maybe she feels just a little bit bad about not trusting me!_

 _Ugh. I need to stop being angry at her. Angry at everyone. I just...I wish I knew how. Because, I gotta admit, sometimes I want to push Chloe away, to keep her from getting hurt, when I turn into...into someone else. Me, but not me. And then there are all the other days, where I want to hang on to her, and never let her go. I mean, how could I ever live my life without her in it? Some days, it's like she's the only good thing I have._

 _Time to get back to working on my 'project'. I picked up that History of Space and Time book that Hawking wrote. I'm not sure how much of it I understand but I need to try. Smartest guy in the world, right? Maybe I'll write him a letter._

 _ **April 2nd, 2009**_

 _Oh my God._

 _Why am I doing all this? All this stupid shit? Working my ass off in school to get the best grades I can. Pushing away what few people want to be my friend. I'm barely eating some days, and just cooped up in my room. Mom and Dad are leaving me alone for the most part; I guess that's the nice thing about being a teenager, people just assume you're a broody shithead._

 _But, I mean, of course I'm not going to die. This is stupid! There has to be an explanation for everything. Now that it's been a few months, and the initial shock is wearing off, I'm being…_

 _...I'm being an idiot here._

 _Of course, I'm not going to die in five years._

 _I'm not!_

 _You know, I should just go and tear those letters up. All of them! Tell Mom and Dad, that I need serious, psychological help. They'll know what to do. They'll make it all better!_

 _ **April 8th, 2009**_

 _I am such a fucking coward…_

 _...why can't I stop believing?_

 _I almost did it. I almost went and threw it all out._

 _Shit, I gotta deliver that big letter as soon as possible. It's driving me crazy, sitting there. Wanting to read it so badly, and being so scared of a collection of paper and words. If I don't get it out of my life one way or the other, it's going to drive me bonkers! But how lucky am I that I need to deliver it in Seattle? Imagine how screwed I'd be if it was New York City. Or Japan. Or someplace else, super far away._

 _ **April 25th, 2009**_

 _Jesus. My heart's still beating like a jackhammer. An hour later, and I've only just stopped shaking._

 _I did it today._

 _I delivered that big envelope, the one Future Max told me was super important. Millions of lives are at stake, she said. Damn, how could she just lay that on me?! Something that crazy stupid important? I can't believe I managed not to look inside it this whole time. But one of the books I read said something about how observation influences quantum phenomenon? There was the whole thing about Schrodinger's Cat, and how it's both alive and dead in the box. I never really understood what that meant until now._

 _It's actually kinda neat._

 _But my point is that I figure the less I know about the future, the better a chance I have of maybe surviving what's coming for me. I know that makes like zero sense, but...I can't help feeling that way. Like if I don't read about it, it doesn't have nearly as much power over me; it won't come true as easily. Sounds like a paradox, right? I don't care._

 _Whoever the letter is for, they live in this fancy, high security condo tower. Lucky break, it was only six blocks away from Dad's office, in the super plush part of Seattle. So I convinced him to give me a lift into the city on his way to work. I only got inside the building because I scammed one of the residents who was walking in. I told them I was someone's visiting niece who got locked out. So I just went up, slid it under the door, and ran. I didn't even knock. Didn't want to take the chance of someone opening up and finding me._

 _On the other hand, on the way out, I spotted a resident directory. I tried to look up the name of the person in that apartment, because for a moment I thought: 'Well, maybe this is someone who can help me. Maybe they know what's going on, and they can save me!' . But all of the sudden, this guard comes out from nowhere, and chases me away. Gotta wonder...I know it sounds crazy, but what if the universe was acting to keep me from finding more info out?_

 _But...Future Max said that the government found out she had powers. How? How did they do it? Is the person I gave the letter to someone from the government? Or maybe someone who gets arrested by them?_

 _Oh shit! Oh no! That letter has my fingerprints all over it now! What if trying to give that letter gets the Feds knocking down my door! And what if they can't help me, but they lock me up in frickin' Guantanamo Bay for the next four years._

 _I'm getting really scared again._

 _ **May 8th, 2009**_

 _...this isn't fair. I didn't do anything wrong! I don't deserve to have this fucking death hanging over my head! I'm a human being, not some fucking Replicant!_

 _ **May 13th, 2009**_

 _Got in trouble again. For skipping class, this time. There was a lecture on quantum physics and applied temporal theory at one of the local colleges, so I blew off fifth period, hoping that maybe the answer I was looking for was there. Totes waste of my time though. I waited until after the lecture and tried to ask the professor guy some questions - you know, asking like it was just a hypothetical thing, and not real. He thought I was jerking him around and joking. Real asshole about it, too. I nearly ran out crying._

 _At least I was able to make a BS excuse to Mom and Dad, about wanting to be academically challenged. They still aren't happy, but they didn't ground me as hard as I was expecting. Your kid skips to sit in on a lecture for senior level college physics students. Kinda hard to crack the whip on that._

 _Still, Dad had one good point. Not helping my plan to get into Blackwell for next year. But that's okay. I'm getting close to giving up on this whole notion that there's anyone out there who can save me._

 _ **July 11th 2009**_

 _Ooookay. What a weird day today. I was walking back to the bus stop, because I went to the local Barnes and Noble to buy this book on modern neuroscience and how it dovetails with Buddhist practices - it's a neat book, and I'm thinking maybe there's something in here I can use but...okay. I'm rambling. The point is that on the way out, this woman trips and spills her coffee all over me. Ugh! At least it was an iced coffee, so I didn't get burned and made into a creepy scarred monster or something. But she got all crazy and over-emotional about it. Trying to wipe me down, and apologizing, and I swear, she would not let go of my arm while she had her little freak out, for like a good minute or two. You know, if I didn't know better, I swear she tripped on purpose. Really stupid crazy, all the sick people in the city. Anyhow, she gave me her card, and told me to call her so she can pay for the dry cleaning bill._

 _Yeah, whatever, Alanna Rodriguez, whoever you are. Crazy lady, that's who._

 _And that was my favorite shirt, too!_

 _ **September 14th, 2009**_

 _New kid at school today. Fernando was the name, I think. Felt bad, because he didn't seem to have any friends. Just like me. I guess he must have made the connection, because he came up and tried to talk to me, but...I just wasn't in the mood for it. For any of it._

 _Because why? Why try to spend time building up new friendships, and get interested in new things, and...and, I don't know. What's the point of it? What's the point of anything? It's all just going to go away in another four years. So I told him: Sorry, you seem nice. I just don't have time for any friends._

 _And the legend of "Bitchy Maxine, the Mean Ice Queen" grows. Don't care. I'm soooo over caring. All I want is to go home, back to Arcadia Bay. Back to Chloe. Because maybe one day I'll get the courage to tell her what's happening, and the two of us can figure it out._

 _But not when I'm trapped here in shitty Seattle!_

 _ **December 1st 2009**_

 _Dad won't let me go back to Arcadia Bay for Christmas and New Years. He says that Grandma is getting sick, and she might not have much longer, so we should spend time with her._

 _Fuck…_

 _FUCK!_

 _How do I talk about this without sounding like a heartless bitch?_

 _I waited all year for this! All shitting year to go back and finally see Chloe for real! What the hell? Grandma is gonna die? Well guess what, Daddy! I AM TOO!_

 _I'm barely fourteen, and I'm gonna die, too. Is it too much to ask that you let me go back home and be with my only friend in the world, for what few years I have left?_

 _At least Grandma got a whole lifetime out of the deal._

 _More than I ever got._

 _ **March 28th, 2010**_

 _I. Did. It!_

 _I did it!_

 _I just got my acceptance letter from Blackwell Academy! I guess they really liked my photo essay, about the fragility of life and the impermanence of existence. Man, that Buddha's Brain book gave me the best idea. And...I hate to say it, but I think the mediation is helping too. I mean, I only started doing it because I thought maybe it would improve my brain, give me...don't laugh, but like powers? Or shielding, or some way to keep 2013 from ending with me dead and gone._

 _But I think it helps me feel better in general. A little bit?_

 _Anyhow, Blackwell! Academy!_

 _Annnnnd a scholarship to boot! Man, Mom and Dad were so proud. And he kept his promise. I didn't even have to remind him. He told me that clearly, being in Arcadia Bay again meant the world to me, and that I 'paid my dues' to go back._

 _I called Chloe up an hour ago. She sounded...I don't know. Drunk? Tired, or maybe stoned? She acted like she didn't know who I was at first, but when I told her I was coming back...she actually broke down and cried. Like she was so happy and so sad, all at once. She didn't want to talk about what was going on in her life, but Jesus, it must be really bad._

 _That's okay. I'm pretty bad too, in my own way. But at least now, Chloe and I can have fucked up lives together. That has to count for something, right?_

 _ **May 8, 2010**_

 _I thought I would be happier, you know?_

 _Because really, on paper, everything is going great. Mom and Dad are stupid proud of me for planning a major life goal and working hard to achieve it. I'm going back home. I'm going back to Chloe. We're going to spend the rest of high school together._

 _The rest of our lives together...all four years._

 _Not even, barely three and a half now._

 _I'm finally getting everything I want, and I only have three and a half years left._

 _...God._

 _Last week, it hit me. Out of the blue. Now that I finally have everything, I have everything to lose._

 _I haven't been able to drag myself out of room except for school, since._

 _ **June 29th, 2010**_

 _Jesus, look at all these people. Just look at them._

 _What are you all so happy about? You're gonna die! Although I guess most of you got long lives to live first. Three times what I'm getting. Five times! So of course, you're happy, or at least…._

 _...fuck!_

 _I thought spending the summer doing volunteer shit at the hospice would help me figure out how to find some peace in the face of dying. Least, that's what I told myself._

 _Just seems to make me even more depressed and angry than ever before. There's nothing inspiring here, there's nothing that moves me. Just constant reminders, all these people who got to live long, full, and happy lives, and then there's me. It's easy for all of you fucking geezers! Oooh! Look at me! I'm so brave, meeting the end of my long, long, long, super awesome life, with a morphine drip in my arm and some candystriper come to wipe my ass as I sleep! At least the kids in the cancer ward, they're the ones getting the raw fucking end of the deal. That's the real tragedy!_

 _But all the bluehairs here? None of these people will ever understand what it's like to be me! What do they have to be so scared about and upset about?_

 _Fuck. I should quit. But how shitty would that look? At least I only have to keep up with this until the end of July._

 _ **July 8th, 2010**_

 _Mr. Robertson finally died last night._

 _I was just sitting there, reading to him, even though he was asleep and probably couldn't hear me. But then he just woke up out of the blue, and started crying. Like he was scared, really...really frightened. He grabbed my arm, and told me to help him. He was going to die, and he wasn't ready. He was only fifty-five, and he wasn't ready yet. He was delirious from the drugs - that's what they told me later - but he was angry, and scared, just…_

 _...just like me._

 _And then he died. Right in front of me. Poor guy. All he wanted to do was live. He was actually pretty young, you know, compared to most of the other people here. You'd think all that will, all that panic would have been enough, but clearly it fucking wasn't._

 _You know, when I started this whole volunteer gig at the local hospice this summer, I did it because the latest book on Buddhism I'm reading was talking about cultivating compassion and kindness. And empathy. And naturally I thought this was the best place to understand and come to grips with what's going on in my life. Or rather, how it's going to end._

 _I thought it would help, but it didn't. Watching the people who found some sort of acceptance, to the point where they were all serene about it...it just made me furious! And then it made me depressed. Like I was just wallowing in death, because death was the only thing on my mind. Probably was a bad idea, really unhealthy, working here. But I couldn't make myself quit, even though there were days I kept swearing that quitting was all I wanted to do. But then there were days where I was obsessed, like I_ had _to find some sort of answer, some sort of meaning in it all._

 _I guess I finally have. Because you know what?_

 _I do_ not _want to die that way: alone, and frightened and angry and scared and begging and pleading for it not to stop!_

 _I mean, it's like a God damn light switch went off in my brain, watching what happened!_

 _I get it now. I get it._

 _I don't want to be Mr. Robertson. I don't want to bring all this shit to Arcadia Bay with me. This darkness and depression. And I don't want to bring it to Chloe. Because I mean, yeah, I'm gonna die, but for the next three and a half years, I'm still alive! And I really want to live. But I want quality, if I can't have quantity._

 _I'm not in pain. I'm young, and healthy, and when the end comes, I won't even see it coming. All this time I've been bitchy and soaking in self-pity, and I didn't even see how good I had it._

 _I mean, while I'm trying to live, it doesn't mean I have to stop looking for a way to keep this all from happening too, right? I'm gonna kick life in the fucking balls while I'm doing it. Just watch me!_

 _ **August 7th, 2010**_

 _I'm back! Oh Lordy, I'm back! Blackwell is holding this optional early summer Freshman orientation program, so naturally I jumped all over that. Lots of hiking and working on art, and getting settled in. It's absolutely awesome. For cereal._

 _I went over to Chloe's house, as soon as I got moved in. And...well, there's been changes. Not good ones, either. I guess Joyce started dating again a while back, and I don't blame her. But her current boyfriend is….ugh. Not thrilled with him. I guess he used to drive a bus, but he's talking about trying to get into security, because he was in one of the wars in Iraq. I met him briefly, on the way up to Chloe's room. I don't like him already._

 _Security, huh? Just as long as he doesn't get a job at Blackwell or something. I think 'mall cop' is more_ his _style._

 _Anyhow, Chloe is...Chloe's fucking angry. I don't blame her. I understand she's pissed, because she's pretty damn convinced that David and Joyce are gonna end up getting married or something. I think Joyce can do better, but I guess loneliness can make you get desperate. I know how that is._

 _Chloe's different, too. She's started dying feathers of her hair blue, and she even got a nose stud. Really punk! Um...it's not her, and at the same time, it really kinda is. I think she looks pretty damn good though. Badass!_

 _And, um, kinda hot._

 _That actually got a smile from her, when I told her._

 _But then she tells me that she's gonna be on academic probation if she doesn't get her grades back into shape by the end of fall semester. She acts like she doesn't care. She literally said that: "I don't care about Black-hell anymore."_

 _Oh God. I think I totes lost my goddamn mind or something. Snapped. Just a bit. I mean, I didn't yell-yell at her, but I lost my shit, kinda-sorta. Went off ranting, about how I just spent the last year and a half totally busting my ass to get back home, so I could go to Blackwell. So I could go to Blackwell_ with her! _My best friend in the whole damn world. And whatever fucking problems she has in her life, she wasn't alone to deal with them anymore. Then I threatened to hound the fuck out of her and do whatever it took to help get her grades back on track, even if I had to do all her homework for her, as well as mine!_

 _Then she got this look, like her eyes were getting wider and wider, and she was probably all thinking, 'Who the hell is this crazy girl, and what did she do with Max?' Then I sorta...jumped on her. Tickle fight, like we used to do when we were younger. She cried Uncle pretty damn quick. I don't think she was in the mood, but she still laughed._

 _Then she smiled, and told me how happy she was that I was back. For cereal._

 _We totally had a moment_.

 _After that, I dragged her butt out to go see that new Scott Pilgrim movie. It was actually really good! I'm not sure I liked Ramona all that much though. She was way too much of a flighty player, with all the boyfriends, although she had this cute ninja girlfriend too. That was cool. Way cool! And her hair was absolutely totes awesome. I told Chloe that she should do that: go all blue with the hair dye. She said she was already thinking about something like that._

 _Anyhow, movie was okay, lots of funny video game jokes, most of which I got, but I think Scott should have ended up back with Knives, even though it was kinda skeezy that a twenty two year old was dating a seventeen year old girl. I read on the Internet that this was the original ending, but they changed it at the last minute. Too bad, better her than Ramona._

 _Or maybe Knives and Ramona should have gotten together and totally left Scott behind. Ha ha!_

 _ **September 7th, 2010**_

 _First day of school!_

 _And...and OMG? Chloe? She dyed her hair. Pink!_

 _I asked her why pink, and she said, "I didn't wanna be a copycat after we saw that movie. Also, pink is awesomer than blue."_

 _She's right of course._

 _ **December 8th, 2010**_

 _Just told Chloe about going away for six weeks on that 'winter term', overseas. Half the time in Iceland, and the other half in Italy. Talk about extremes!_

 _She was surprisingly cool with it. But she's mellowing. The last semester has been great. Just awesome. We both needed it, I think. We both needed to find refuge, and we always could find that in each other._

 _(Oh man, does that sound gay? Ha ha, it kinda does, a little!)_

 _She got her grades back up. Even after David popped the question last month, and Joyce said yes, she managed to hold it together. Man, she was stupid pissed at first, but after the first few days, she just let it go. Let it slide off like water across her back. Sorta. Kinda. The important part is that she's getting there._

 _Of course, she spent a whole weekend stoned as shit. And um. I decided to see what the big deal was. So I tried a couple of bong hits too._

 _I really hated it the first time. Gross, and so much coughing and shit. But when I tried it again the next day, I guess I got the hang of it. And it was fun! Sorry Mom and Dad, but weed is kinda hella cool! Damn, I was such a pig though, must have eaten a whole pizza myself, after we got the munchies. So, you know, fun, but definitely something not to do all the time. I don't wanna spend the rest of what life I have left high every day, you know?_

 _Chloe told me I had to email her constantly. Send her as many pictures as I could, so it was like she was there with me. I told her 'try and stop me.'_

 _But hey, I'm not gone yet. We still have Christmas, and then New Years together.  
_

 _I can't believe I'm saying this, but for the first time since Chloe's dad died, I feel like things are actually okay. The doom-anvil hanging over my head doesn't feel like such a constant presence anymore. Coming back to Arcadia Bay, and coming back to Chloe was the right choice - like there was any doubt? But seriously, after the first semester, I feel like the Universe is trying to tell me I'm on the right track._

 _I hate to leave Chloe alone for weeks, but I need to do this. I need to see more of the world._

 _While I still can._

 _ **December 26, 2010**_

 _Oh my God...  
_

 _Chloe gave me her Dad's old camera for Christmas._

 _I totally burst into tears when she did. But Chloe insisted that William would want me to have it. I mean, I have my own instant film camera, but I am totally switching over now._

 _Look out camera; you're going to get a lot of use, and see a lot of crazy things!_

 _This really was the best Christmas I ever had, you know? Back home, back with Chloe. Can you imagine how screwed up my life would be if I had just stayed in Seattle, and the two of us fell out of touch like she originally thought we would? What kind of insane universe would that be?_

 _ **March 1, 2011**_

 _I'm back!_

 _Feels good. I mean, don't get me wrong, as much as I missed Chloe, I'm so glad I made myself do this. For cereal! Pushing myself out of my comfort zone, trying new things, getting out of the familiar and expected. It was all terrible and wonderful!_

 _Granted, Iceland was easy. Gorgeous and surreal and...the pictures! Oh my God, the pictures I took! It was like living in Thor's backyard or something, or like one of those Lord of the Rings movies. So cool! But everyone speaks perfect English. And everyone is gorgeous and athletic too, for some reason, and works out and soaks in natural hot tubs. The food was also great! Except for the fermented shark fin that smelled like pee. Blech! Also, I drew the line when they offered me some sort of stew served out of a goat's head. Uch!_

 _Italy was more challenging. Way more. Different attitudes, kinda more sexist in some ways than I was expecting. I mean I really thought Europe was this universally enlightened place, but in some ways, it's a lot like home. Except...not. Gah! I think my point is that it was good to have all these assumptions challenged and corrected. But also, more awesome food! You think you've had Italian food before, but that's nothing compared to a meal you get in one of these little country restaurants that are literally just someone's living room._

 _Chloe made a new friend while I was gone. A transfer student named Rachel. I met her, and she seems nice but...I don't know. She and Chloe get along so well. Maybe too well. I mean, like she and I do but...different._

 _I'm embarrassed to admit it, but I think I'm jealous. I always felt Chloe and I had something totally pure and sacrosanct, and here comes Ms. Perfect Amber; she and Chloe fit together almost as well as we do, but in their own unique ways. Honestly, I'd be a lot more pissed and angry at her if she wasn't so nice! And cool. Like she's genuinely trying to be my friend, too. Keep me from feeling like a third wheel, or making me out to be one, even though sometimes Chloe and she go and hang out together on their own. Because I've been really busy studying and catching up for the spring semester. You know, a perfectly valid reason…_

 _...fuck._

 _I'm angry because I want every moment with Chloe to myself! There's a piece of me that's all 'Hey! I'm dying here! So how dare you make friends with someone else, someone who is gonna be your best friend when I'm gone!"_

 _Except...I'll be gone, but I'll still be here._

 _...if you're reading this right now, Future Max, I hope you turn out to be a nice person. Not an anti-social bitch. I'd like it if you were nice to all the friends I've made. Most of them are pretty good people._

 _Oh, except for that total bitch, Victoria Chase. I don't think I'll ever be friends with her._

 _ **June 27th, 2011**_

 _I'm leaving tomorrow._

 _For Japan._

 _On purpose, and everything!_

 _The shittiest part is being away from Chloe for two and a half months, of course. But there's wifi, and we'll Skype. It'll be weird...she'll be getting up as I'm going to sleep, and vice versa. But I still think I'm as right as I was when I first decided to do this; I was using Chloe - that is, not wanting to be away from her - as an excuse to not stretch myself out. To not go out and seize what few opportunities are still left for me._

 _But I do wish she was coming with me. She loves this kind of shit, and she made me promise to bring her back like a million different things._

 _My parents think I'm crazy, pumping so much travel and study abroad into one year, but given that I put in the work to get a bunch of it funded with grants and scholarships, they aren't complaining about the cost, at least. Mom keeps reminding me that Japan isn't like Iceland, and I'm like duh. Yeah. It's why I've been studying like a fiend to learn at least some passable Japanese, and reading up on the culture and stuff; hell I have one whole suitcase dedicated to all the 'omiyage' - the customary gifts to give out to the people I'll be meeting - I need to bring. But that's the whole point. Sure, maybe I'll stick out, this pasty looking white girl with pink and black hair - although the hair will make me look like an anime character! - who's totally out of place everywhere she goes. It's a pretty scary and intimidating challenge; so of course, I'm gonna do it. That's the whole damn point._

 _I've been chatting over the last couple of weeks online with Hiroko, my "host sister" for my first family stay in Nanae. She seems really nice. She even used to live in Seattle for a little while when she was in college, so we have that to talk about. So from Hokkaido, I'll just work my way down the island chain. My only worry is whether I can get enough film for my instamatic; it being Japan, I kinda doubt they'll have anything like that, but who knows? I'll bring my digital as backup, just in case, even though I don't like using it as much._

 _One way or the other, this is going to be absolutely amazing and intense!_

 _ **September 10th, 2011**_

 _Wowser. That was kind of big freaking disaster._

 _Warren took me out on a second date last night, to this ape movie. Not exactly my thing, but he liked it, and I kind of enjoyed it too. But he's moving sorta quick. Putting his arm around me and trying to steal a kiss - a little one, but God, still - at the end of the night._

 _Why does it feel so...I don't want to use the word 'wrong' but...okay, no. I do._

 _It feels wrong! All of it.  
_

 _He's a nice friend, and because we got along so well and have a lot of the same interests, I thought maybe he might make a nice boyfriend. If it worked out, I mean, but it's just not. I don't feel any kind of spark, or attraction like that or...because it's not like I have a lot of experience with this sort of thing. None. Do I just not like Warren or…_

 _Okay. I have to break on through, because I'm avoiding the real issue here._

 _What do I like? I wasn't sure, when I went to Chloe's dorm, and told her all about it. I want to be friends with Warren, and keep hanging out with him, but I just don't feel like we 'fit' as a couple. I was complaining that I had no idea what the hell I actually_ do _like. So Chloe, she scoots on over next to me, because we're sitting on the edge of her bed, and she's all jokey and shit, and saying. "Ooooh! Maybe you just don't like boys!" And I kinda shrugged, because I really don't know. I don't know what's going on with me, and I'd like to have it figured out before my mind gets taken over by The Max From Another Time._

 _It was supposed to be a gag, right? She's all "Well, give me a kiss, then you'll find out."_

 _I laughed, and told her no. But she gets all up in it, daring me. And then double daring me._

 _So I did it. I leaned in and I kissed her. That'll teach her for testing me.  
_

 _I um...well it was definitely not like when Warren tried it..._

 _There was something there. Like this electric wave. I'm still squirming in my seat, as I'm writing this. This feeling of excitement. Absolute and instinctive Rightness. And I'm thinking of how nice and soft her lips are, and how great she suddenly smells, but it's over before it barely begins._

 _Chloe's blushing, and kind of casually making a funny comment about - I don't remember. Warren, maybe? I don't remember much past that point, other than I just stand up and walk out. In this weird blind panic. I thought Chloe was going to chase after me, but she didn't. She called out a couple times, but she didn't follow._

 _I haven't slept all night. I've been trying to figure this out. Why I'm so scared, and desperate, and feel like I need to run right back to her, and at the same time run away, keep her distant from me? What's going on?_

 _I'm going to come out and say - okay write it. I'm going to write the question and then it's real._

 _Am I gay?_

 _Because people should know this sort of thing right as they're about to turn sixteen, right? I mean, by then, you're old enough. You either know, or you don't and…_

 _...oh God._

 _I think I'm in love with Chloe Price._

 _I didn't even mean to write that out. It just happened._

 _Wait, love? No. Not love! What? I mean it's just a weird crush. Of course I responded, she's my best friend. I have a way deeper connection to her, emotionally than I do with Warren. Or anyone else. I mean, if anyone kissed their best friend, wouldn't they have a really positive reaction to it?_

 _But I couldn't sleep last night, because every time I closed my eyes, all I could see was that kiss. Not to mention what else might've happened if it hadn't stopped so quickly. Seriously, I can't stop thinking about it, no matter how hard I try. It's like an obsession, or a sickness, but...I don't want to be cured!_

 _What do I do now?_

 _I've got barely two years left, before I 'change'. What do I do now?_

 _I don't want to ruin my friendship with her, or make things weird._

 _(Too late.)_

 _Can I go through with this?_

 _Wait! What the hell am I asking this for?! I don't even know if she likes me that way! God, I'm such an idiot! I'm moving_ way _too fast!_

 _Oh shit, though. What if she_ does _feel the same way? Do I put her through the shit that's coming up?_

 _I need to figure myself out, and soon._

 _ **September 16th, 2011**_

 _What an awkward-as-hell week this has been. Chloe and I have barely said five words to each other. We're way too nervous to be in the same room alone together. I think she's freaking out, afraid she's ruined the friendship. And I'm too nervous to talk to her about anything at all._

 _But I realized I have to make a decision. I have to go forward, one way or the other. Take the shot. Tell her how I feel. And if she feels the same way, then….then I guess we'll have two of the most amazing years left in my life! And if she doesn't, then I know we'll get through it, and still be friends._

 _I'm gonna tell her to meet me tomorrow, at our bunker at American Rust._

 _Fingers crossed. All ten of them!_

 _ **September 17th, 2011**_

 _OMG!_

 _Screaming!_

 _Screaming in the good way!_

 _So I laid it out. What I was feeling. Why I was avoiding her. How I realize I'm attracted...like seriously, stupendously attracted to her, how I finally see that now. That one kiss shook something loose._

 _Then I was done. And waiting for her to say something in response. And she doesn't. She starts looking at me sorta shocked, but also kinda smiling? Ten seconds pass, and she's still not saying anything, and I'm feeling like the biggest, dumbest freak, and just as I'm about to apologize and tell her that I understand if she doesn't want to be friends anymore...that hey yeah, I'll just be here in a corner eating myself into a shame coma...she grabs me by the arms._

 _And then she leans in, and she kisses me again._

 _For real this time._

 _I'm biting my lip, just remembering it._

 _But oh my God, she's so good at it, the kissing, when she does it for real! So so so so good!_

 _And we talk._

 _And we kiss. And then talk some more, and kiss more._

 _I find out that she and Rachel kind of had a weird 'fling' over the summer, while I was away in Japan. It didn't take, but they're still friends. Still occasionally 'with benefits', but ha ha! It was so cute how quickly she told me that was gonna end now that we're a couple._

 _I can't believe it._

 _I'm in love with my best friend. And she's in love with me! She told me so, and also how embarrassed she was, how the whole kissing 'dare' last week was her oh-so-obvious attempt at being 'sly', and testing out the waters. She apologized, said she could have done it better. I told her yeah, she could have, but it doesn't matter._

 _Getting into this relationship is the last thing I should be doing. I really oughta be starting to cut back on friendships, so it's not all weird and disconcerting when I change into a different person. I definitely should not be doing the best, most natural, most obvious thing in the whole world, and be Chloe's girlfriend._

 _But fuck that. I'm not going to let October 12th, 2013 rule my life._

 _What little of it I have left._

 ** _September 22nd, 2011_**

 _Wowser.  
_

 _Chloe and I have only been a couple for a few days. Did I rush into it, spending the night with her on my birthday?_

 _You knooow. Spending the night. In bed._

 _Sex._

 _No. No I didn't rush it. I can't believe I worry. I mean duh, Chloe and I have clearly been in love with each other for years, we just didn't know how to act on it. We spent years building up our relationship. Hell, I'm surprised we didn't get right to it on Tuesday, except, you know, it was a school night._

 _Best birthday ever, though. For cereal. And Chloe was the only birthday present I ever wanted or needed._

 _Amazing thing, how much love changes your perspective. This isn't the first time I've seen her naked, and I always thought she looked good, but damn, yo! Now I can't get enough of her. Hee._

 _I woke up early this morning. She was still asleep, and we were squished up together in her single bed - thank God that as a senior, she gets her own room. She's drooling and looking so content and oh christ, I swear my heart is going to burst. I just reach out, and stroke her face and hair, and can't believe she's mine._

 _She's mine..._

 _...but not forever. Fuck._

 _Fuck!_

 _Two years. Two years, she's mine, and then that's it. I'm gone. I'm dead, and some other Max comes to take her away from me. I know I shouldn't be jealous of myself, but Jesus this is killing me right now. It's_ my _life and Chloe is_ my _true love! This Future Max doesn't have a right! She doesn't have the right to take_ _any_ _of it away from me!_

 _Shit. I thought I was past this...the hurt and the anger and the paranoia._

 _I guess gaining the most precious thing in the world, only to look at losing it before too long, has a way of opening up old wounds._

 _All I can do is hang on to her, for as long as I can. Maybe that will give me the strength I need to fight this off, when the day comes. And if it can't then at least it makes my final days sweeter._

 _Right?_

 _ **October 3rd, 2011**_

 _I made a new friend today. She's really nice! Stupid sweet. Totally into the Jesus Thang, but she comes by it honestly. Like, she's not always acting judgemental and shit, even though a lot of people - especially Victoria, treat her like she is. I think she seriously wants to live a good life, and lead by that example. I wish more people were like that._

 _We actually had a really amazing chat about the similarities in Christianity and Buddhism. Over tea! Like actual tea, and biscuits and whatnot. And she has a pet white rabbit named Alice._

 _Oh, right! Her name is Kate. I should probably have mentioned that earlier._

 _A lot of people have been giving her shit since she started last month. I'm gonna make it my personal goal to get her more friends. Kate has a lot to offer, and while she's not Vortex Club material (gagging noises!) I think Alyssa and Daniel would like her. Even Brooke, if she could stop making out with Warren in public every five seconds._

 _...Damn. I can't judge. Chloe and I are still totally doing the same thing. Ever since we spent the night together on my birthday, I can't get her out of my system! My roommate has been grooving on the fact that she gets our dorm room mostly to herself now, since I spend 99% of my time in Chloe's room, so it's all good.  
_

 _Okay. Really weird thing to mix together: pious Kate, and my sexy-as-hell girlfriend._

 _ **March 13th, 2012**_

 _Okay. Two nights ago was hella intense. I don't exactly remember every little detail, and I've barely recovered enough now to start writing about it._

 _It was Chloe's eighteenth birthday. Rachel and I spent weeks planning this monster huge crazy blowout. And we kind of pointedly didn't invite anyone who was in deep with the Vortex Club._

 _Ha ha! So awesome, and totally amazing! Because Rachel is so omnipopular, she rises above and beyond Vortex. By the day before, they were so desperate to come, they were practically begging! And we just told them no and laughed in their stupid faces!_

 _Okay, maybe rubbing it in was petty and childish. We're teenagers, so sue us!_

 _The after-party got absolutely krunk. Or strunk? I mean, there were tons of bong hits, and lots of booze. I had more of the former, less of the latter._

 _It was three, or four A.M by the time everyone left, and it was just the three of us. I don't quite remember how it happened. Chloe and I were super snuggly, and it was getting heated, and then Rachel just crawls over and teases about how it's no fair she doesn't get anything._

 _I might have, sorta...kinda...maybe...kissed her. Out of the blue. It was supposed to be a joke, I think? Whatever, it made total sense at the time. I mean, I'm pretty sure I did it first. It had a hell of an effect on Chloe though, watching the two of us suddenly making out like that._

 _(I mentioned how drunk and stoned I was already, right?)_

 _And then, the two of_ them _were making out, and then we all were. The two of us ganging up on Chloe. So...yeah. Happy Birthday, Chloe. Surprise! Unexpected threesome._

 _Rachel and I didn't get a chance to talk about it until breakfast today. I told her that it was cool, and I enjoyed it, and no regrets etc, but I didn't see me wanting to make it a real thing. Like, a weird three way relationship. Oddly enough, Chloe felt the same way. Mostly. Rache understood, at least I'm pretty sure she did. We all agreed it was fun and nice, the way it happened, but it probably wasn't gonna happen again._

 _Sorry. Maybe there's another timeline where the three of us find a way to work it out and make it happen, but this version of me doesn't seem to be the sharing type._

 _Damn though, we really need to get Rachel a girlfriend all her own!_

 _ **May 1st, 2012**_

 _Weirdest. Day. Ever._

 _Or at least a long, long time._

 _I don't even know how to explain it. I might as well just start writing it out._

 _Anyhow, Rachel and Chloe and I are hanging out at the the quad near the girl's dorm after class. And out comes Victoria. Not a big deal by itself but...I don't know how to explain it. She looks super freaked. Like something is really, really wrong, and she's losing her mind over it._

 _I don't know how to explain it, but when I looked at her, I got this totally screwed up buzzing sensation in my brain. It felt like...I don't know. Like I was a radio, and she was totally putting out static that was jamming my reception. It felt familiar though, but I still can't figure out why._

 _I was about to say something to Rache and Che about it, but out pops Taylor and Courtney, you know, the Queen Bee's Obedient Servants. They're angry and arguing. Here's the crazy part: They're arguing about who is 'most worthy' of Victoria._

 _And it's all like 'Oh, Victoria! I love you! I'll make you so happy forever' and then Taylor's all 'Fuck her! She's lying! I love you! I need you!'. And we're just staring at this, and I remember asking Chloe if she's seeing this. That, and, are we losing our minds, or did those two girls decide to punk the fucking hell out of Victoria Chase?_

 _So Zachary comes along...no wait. Was it Logan? Sorry, those football bros look alike. Anyhow, he comes over and tells the two of them to leave Victoria alone, it was obviously upsetting her, and how this stupid joke of theirs was going too far. But then booooing! He's all switching gears, and getting_ scary _possessive. About how Victoria needs a man. Needs him._

 _Victoria runs. Seriously, she kicks off her heels, and runs like the fucking wind for her car. I totally got chills watching it._

 _I started talking about how maybe we should do something about this. I don't know, look into it? I couldn't help but feel something was really wrong, and bitchy mean or not, Victoria needed someone to help her. Rachel nods, and says 'Yeah, totally.'. But get this: she wants to do it alone. Insists on it. She gets this look on her face like she knows exactly what's going on, and has a plan to do something about it._

 _Well, you know, that's Rachel for you. She gets shit done.  
_

 _I started to insist that she let us come with, but she managed to talk me out of it. Even after Chloe insists she bring her 'backup crew', she talks Che out of it, too. Probably just as well. Not a Victoria fan, never have been. Pity, because she's good in class, and she actually knows her stuff. Just wish she wasn't so high and mighty and stuck-the-fuck-up, but whatever. I don't have time in my ever-shortening life for her shit._

 _ **August 25th, 2012**_

 _Yeah, hi diary. Remember a few months back when I talked about that weird freaking day with Victoria? And how it was almost three whole days before she came back to class? Rachel wouldn't talk much about it, other than to say it was a fucked up joke. Which I guess it was, because Taylor and Courtney were pathetically grovelling for forgiveness._

 _But she and Victoria started hanging out a lot more. Like they're actually friends or something!_

 _I didn't want to believe it at first, but somehow, they got closer. And Victoria starts being not-so-horrible all the time. They even went away somewhere together for the summer. No details, not my business. I was too busy spending All The Time with Chloe, anyhow. She came back to Seattle with me for a few weeks, and we kind of officially came out to my folks. God, took way too long with that...they weren't all that surprised when we finally told them. Okay, Mom was. Dad not so much. Weird, right?_

 _Ahem._

 _Uh...so how do I say this?_

 _As soon as we got back home, Chloe and I find out that Victoria and Rachel are kind of, sort of, not exactly, but what-else-would-you-call it dating. Romantically and shit._

 _We went on a double date tonight; there were absolutely no good movies playing, so we had to settle for this stupid Total Recall film - you know, yet_ another _reboot of some ancient flick from the 80's. I only remember Dad complaining about a zillion times how they 'ruined a classic'. Still, upside of going into a movie you don't intend to watch? Makeout city!_

 _(Me with Chloe and Victoria with Rachel. No crossovers, get your mind out of the gutter, Diary. Or, I guess Future Max. Hi Future Max.)_

 _And then pizza._

 _You know what? With Rachel playing peacemaker, Victoria Chase isn't half bad. I might actually get to like her. I might even - and this is probably just the bong hit that Chloe gave me three seconds ago as I'm writing this journal entry in her room talking - but I think we could even be friends. At any rate, I really ought to try, if just because it's obvious that it means a lot to Rachel. And Ms. Amber-If-You're-Nasty is my Second Best Bestie of all time! So yeah. I'll do it for her._

 _ **September 16th, 2012**_

 _And welcome to Junior year. Kate and I are room mates, how neat is that?! Of course, I only did it to get visitation rights with Alice. Hee hee. Kidding. But the Buddhist Goth chick and the Preppy Christian girl. It's like a buddy comedy that writes itself!  
_

 _Chloe's still graduated. And she is_ still _fucking crabbing over 'only' becoming salutatorian. Ha ha! What a damn overachiever. Her plan is to go to University of Oregon - Corvallis next year. Deferred this year, so she could work a job and raise some bucks._

 _And of course, so she could stay close to me._

 _Hee hee hee._

 _Hell, half the time, I'm sneaking away to her parents place, where she's living now, and sleeping there. Worst kept secret in school. No one seems to care, even and especially Kate, and that suits me just fine._

 _It's awesome though. Like...like we're married or something. We've settled into this routine, but in a great way. The best way. I am seriously the luckiest high school student in the whole world. Any regrets I might have about hooking up with her a year ago are non-existent at this point._

 _The 'plan' is for Chloe to spend freshman year in Corvallis while I finish up at Blackwell, then we'll find a college we can both attend. San Francisco, maybe._

 _Maybe…_

 _Future Max?_

 _Are you reading this now?_

 _This is important. This is our big life plan I'm talking about. Her and me. All we talk about these days is what our life is going to be like, when we move away to San Francisco. Chloe went and bought us Irish claddagh rings. If you've been reading all my journals, you probably remember that she gave me mine at prom. Maybe we aren't like officially engaged, but at this point, we might as well be._

 _Chances are, I won't be around anymore to make those plans happen. But you will. So you make it happen, okay?_

 _You owe me that. Seriously, you owe me this much, if nothing else._

 _I mean, I won't even see my own wedding day…_

 _ **October 12th, 2012**_

 _Okay. This is it._

 _My last year._

 _I solemnly, super pinky promise blood swear to make this the best last year anyone ever had in their life._

 _I'm not going to go crazy, and do anything like drop out of school, buy an RV and tour the country with Chloe. Because seriously, who does something like that?! But everything is going to be positive. I'm not going to let myself get maudlin, or weepy, or start living in fear. I'll treasure every day. Just be completely and utterly thankful, for every second. Every breath. And every kiss, and every I love you, and every joint, and every slice of pizza, and every corny joke Rachel makes, and every surprisingly useful photo tip Victoria gives me, and every smile and cup of tea Kate passes my way. Never look back. Never look ahead. Just live in the moment._

 _No fear._

 _None, whatsoever._

 _I promise myself that much._

 _(God, why can't I get my heart to stop beating so fucking fast, then?)_

 _ **January 2nd, 2013**_

 _Shit._

 _Shiiiiiiit!_

 _I opened the letter. The last of the three._

 _I almost didn't. I nearly told myself "Fuck it. I don't want to know. I don't want any of that BS harshing my positive mindset." I was going to tear that letter up and throw it away and live with the consequence of not knowing. Because, you know what, Future Max? You and Time are not the boss of me! Me being Awesome Present Max._

 _Anyhow, shut up, because I read your stupid fucking letter, six minutes after midnight yesterday._

 _Nathan Prescott. Mark Jefferson._

 _You have got to be fucking kidding me!_

 _How the hell am I supposed to do this? How the hell am I supposed to stop them from murdering Stella Hill?! I can barely believe the situation at all. That these two are sicko killers, getting their kicks from tying girls up in some sort of bunker somewhere._

 _What do I do? Seriously, I am out of ideas. I mean, it's not like I can go to the police about this. Yeah, right, how would that work? "Hi there, I'm a Special Little Snowflake with information from the future. You totally need to lock up Nathan Prescott and Mark Jefferson right now. Oh? What's that? All your asses are owned by the Prescott family? Why yes, I do believe I can show myself out the door and never come back to the police station ever again!"_

 _If only I could tell Chloe. She and I could solve this in under a week. Guaranteed._

 _But I can't. I don't even know how to explain. I mean, she loves me, but I think this is too much for her to swallow. So it'll just be me. I think I've got a plan forming. It'll involve getting closer, and becoming better friends with Stella. I mean, we're friendly, but we're not close. And then, I figure in April, I'll stake her out on the day in question, and maybe try to catch Nathan and Jefferson in the act. Take pictures. And...and I think Chloe's stepdad has guns; maybe I can figure out how to borrow one. Secretly._

 _Oh shit._

 _I just realized: I have to spend months now, taking Mr. Jefferson's stupid class, and pretending I don't know he's a sick, sick asshole! Oh fuck! Fuck him! Fuck you, Mr. Jefferson! I totally respected your work. Adored it! And now it's all sick and tainted. Just like you!_

 _Alright. No time to bitch. Gotta be a hero. Gotta save the day._

 _Still...fuck you, Future Max!_

 _How did I know you'd find a way to sorta wreck my life near the end?_

 _ **April 23rd, 2013**_

 _That...did not go as planned. At all._

 _Damnit._

 _Good news, though? Everything worked out fine. Despite_ all _my efforts. Sheesh!_

 _But I did it. I got closer to Stella...nice girl, actually. Totally not a wasted effort. I couldn't steal one of David's guns, but that creepy drug dealer who hangs out near the dinner was able to get something for me. Charged me way too much money for some Saturday Night Special that looks like it'll fall apart if I shoot it more than three times. The hardest part was pretending not to know what I did about Nathan and Jefferson. To not lose it and shoot them pre-emptively, and solve the situation that way. To just play pretend, for months and months._

 _But anyhow. I had to do this right. I needed proof, or at least had to catch them in the act. And doing it alone? I mean, maybe I could have figured out other plans. Ways to stop this sooner. Breaking into Jefferson's office and trying to find evidence, or tailing Nathan and seeing where he goes?  
_

 _But I couldn't bring myself to do. Not by myself. Jesus Christ, I feel like such a coward. All this time I've talked about pushing myself, living bravely, grabbing life with both hands. And look at how I failed. I didn't want to risk getting caught doing anything crazy, and spending the rest of my year in juvie or something, or getting killed. Someone's life was on the line, and I couldn't act until the very last minute.  
_

 _Anyhow..._

 _I spent all day, on the day in question, stalking Stella. Trying to keep an eye on her, but not be near enough for her to spot me. Because I needed Nathan and Jefferson to make their move. Spent the whole day, and whole night keeping guard. I blew off date night with Chloe so I could make sure Stella wasn't gonna get kidnapped in her sleep and die._

 _Not a damn thing happened, and I'm all 'What the hell, Future Max?'._

 _The next day, I found out that the two Wonder Creeps made a play for Rachel instead. They almost got away with it, except Victoria caught them in the act as she was coming back with pizza. The story gets really hazy there, in regards to exactly what happened, that is. I haven't been able to get a straight answer out of either of them, except that Victoria somehow was able to subdue them until the police came._

 _Kinda awesome though. Really awesome. I don't know how you did it, Tori, but you saved the day. You were a big damn hero. I'm really glad you're my friend, that we were able to put aside all the bullshit between us in the past._

 _So that's it. Didn't even need my help. SuperVicky did it all herself._

 _Shit...I'm never going to forgive myself for not handling that situation better. But...I'm not some superhero, or a secret agent or something. So I guess I shouldn't be so hard on myself. But I'm not in a good place right now. I'm really not. Putting aside the fact that I kind of failed myself, I'm trying so hard not to get false hope and crazy ideas. Ideas like: If she was wrong about this, maybe Future Max is totally wrong about what's going to happen in October. Maybe I'm totally in the clear, and everything is going to be okay. But I can't afford to think that way. Because I don't know if I did something that changed the timeline. Like maybe Jefferson spotted me, and it spooked him, and it made him go after Rachel as an alternative._

 _That makes the most sense._

 _But it's still so hard for me not to hope against hope right now._

 _God damnit!_

 _ **October 4th, 2013**_

 _Last full weekend of my life._

 _Yup._

 _And two of my lame best friends, Lame Rachel, and Victoria The Ultra Lame aren't going to be around for it._

 _I don't know what's up, exactly. Just them going to New York City for a long weekend. I can't get the reasons out of them. Victoria said it was for a photo exhibit premier that her parents are involved with, but Rachel made it sound like some sort of romantic getaway._

 _Seriously though, WTF? Who suddenly runs off to the East Coast, in the middle of school? Well, anyhow, they told me they'd probably be back before the end of next week._

 _Hope I get one last chance to say goodbye to them...even though I won't actually say the words. Whatever. I shouldn't be so angry. They don't know what's coming for me, and if our places were reversed, I know I sure as hell would want to go to New York City, eat fancy room service, shop for tons of fancy clothes, and fuck like bunnies, too._

 _But Chloe is still here with me. Thank God, she's coming over from college to visit me this weekend._

 _It's probably better this way. Her and me. We can just spend the whole weekend in her bedroom. And it doesn't even have to be just sex. We can chill, binge-watch movies, get stoned. I just know it's going to be great. No matter what the two of us do._

 _We'll be together. That's all that matters now._

 _ **October 12th, 2013**_

 _I feel like I should open with a poem._

 _Oh wait, I'm kinda getting ahead of myself._

 _Today is the last day of my life. Not even the last full day. The Future Max Express is going to hit in barely an hour._

 _Well, anyhow. I got up a little before dawn. Watched the sunrise. Had a nice breakfast. Nothing too fancy. Waffles and eggs. Bacon. Stuff I know I'll always like. Food that's satisfying, that reminds me of my childhood._

 _Can't believe it's finally here._

 _Like I said, I feel like I should open with a poem, but I guess it's too late now. Just as well, it probably wouldn't be worth it. Because I feel like something by Emily Dickinson is too appropriate. All the references about the candle burning at both ends, and death stopping to pick her up, and how we should look back on Time with kindly eyes. It's too accessible. At the hospice, it seemed like everyone was quoting her. I ought to do something unique to me._

 _Huh._

 _You know what? No. I don't need a memorial._

 _I don't need to lionize myself. I already did that. Every day, and every hour, where I lived, and lived well. Lived without being completely consumed by fear of this day. No matter how much I wanted to be, sometimes. And that I didn't let fear overwhelm and dominate me. Where I pushed myself to go past - sometimes way past - my limits, because I'd never get another chance._

 _I have to believe that the last five years mean something. I was here, you know? I was here, Future Max! I lived, and I fell in love with the most incredible woman in the world. And I helped people, and people helped me. I saw things, and did stuff...that I probably wouldn't have had the guts to try if I didn't know I had such little time. I took the best photos of my life, of the Berserker fields in Iceland, and I rode the super cute horses they have there, and took even more photos of the Northern Lights. I got a traffic ticket in Italy for riding this stupid little Vespa scooter the wrong way in traffic, and I had a zillion people in Japan rush up and give me a hug, because holy shit, there's this gaijin girl, and she's doing the Ika Dance in the Squid Parade in some port town in southern Hokkaido, and that almost never ever happens!_

 _Maybe each and every day wasn't absolutely perfect. There were times I definitely faltered. Sometimes my courage fell to my feet - that's Bowie, by the way. Once or twice, I stopped whatever it was I was doing and begged God to keep this day from happening, even after I told myself I wasn't going to be afraid._

 _It's okay, though._

 _It's okay._

 _People die every day. In stupid, mean, tragic ways. Ways that are pointless. Brutal, and absolutely senseless. And more often than not, they never get to see it coming. But I got a warning. Oh believe me, I got a hell of a warning._

 _So much of these last five years have been spectacular. Especially once Chloe and I got it together. And who knows if I would have had the wherewithal to do that, if I didn't know my time was limited. Yeah, I think I can pretty much guarantee that I would have been a much different person, with a way different life if I didn't know my time on this planet was so strictly limited._

 _Of course I want more. Hell yeah, I would have liked to have seen so many things, do even more. But that's all on you now, Future Max. I'm leaving you the keys to my life. It's pretty incredible. Make the most of it for me. For both of us. The last five years were a gift. And now, I want you to have the rest of it._

 _I forgive you. Whatever else, know that I forgive you. I don't know for sure but somehow, I believe you're even more of a victim of the Universe than I am._

 _I hope my life makes up for whatever It did to you._

Love,

 _Max Caulfield, Past and Present._

* * *

 _ **A/N:** _ Whew!

Well, that was a new record. Sorry for the marathon session there, folks, but this is one of those chapters that I could have just continuously written forever. The original idea was to have everything play out from multiple perspectives over the five years as they unwound, but that would have been a repeat of the issues chapters 6-12: a 75K word ending that took a long time to wrap up. Plus, I liked the notion of NewMax being in the dark as shit was going on around her, like Camilla clearly sending Alanna to scan her, like Reese did way back in the beginning of the story.

Oh! Before I forget... **Theodur:** did you spot the little nod I gave you? :-D

Oddly enough, until the last week, this chapter was going to start in December 2008. I have no idea why it didn't occur to me until the very end how strange and jarring it felt without having those first few weeks as NewMax initially processes what's going on. Glad I thought to come back to that and bulk it up, even if that did add a lot more words, because it was seriously needed.

I will say this was definitely a difficult chapter to write, in terms of establishing narrative authority; trying to make it convincing that this is indeed someone struggling with an impeding death - albeit an incredibly unusual one - and coming to some sort of peace or at least acceptance of it. Not to mention how time consuming this chapter was to proofread, edit, proofread again, and do final polish for. I was right down to the wire.

I also imagine someone out there is asking "Uh, how come Max didn't write a letter to herself about Nathan with an earlier open date? Maybe try to befriend him way before 2013, and see if she could be a good influence on him." That's an excellent question, one that will get more or less answered in the next chapter.

So obviously, you folks noticed I dumped this out a day early; I've decided I've had it with schedules. I'm just going to put this chapter out now, and the final chapter out as soon as I can, possibly as early as tonight. Just...kinda done with this series. Don't really want to say anything more than that.


	42. Fade To Black (Swan)

Max closed the most recent of the journals, and reverently placed it back into the box. She gave a hard sniff, one of many over the past three hours.

"Jesus…" she breathed out, before reaching up to wipe a fresh wave of tears from her eyes.

She didn't know whether to be in awe, or jealous of the woman this Max grew up to be. To live for five years with the fear of certain doom hanging over her head, and yet still find a way to make a wonderful life for herself, in what she assumed was a scant handful of remaining years.

After a few seconds, she realized that jealousy was a ridiculous notion. She was this Max, and this Max was her. Nothing had been added or taken away from, other than pure experience. She hugged herself tight as she ruminated upon their two different paths. Max realized now how brutally and unfairly she had traumatized her younger self, just as she herself had been, growing up. Both of them survived their respective trials by fire, and this Max forged herself into as formidable a young woman as the Max currently, albiet temporarily, taking her place.

 _I did my best to survive and make it through five years of hell. Be the best at all my training, try and ignore the fact my parents were more or less dead to me. It definitely screwed me up, but I came out of it strong, in my own way. And yeah, this other Max got screwed up too, but she came out, just as strong...or...no...even stronger!_

Deep inside, Max still didn't want her own life to end. Who could blame her? She was only human after all. She could, however, take a large measure of comfort in the fact that her actions, her sacrifice, went on to create a much better world; not just for herself, but for so many of the people she loved. A world with parents who still remembered her and an amazing girlfriend, who stayed in school and made it to just about the very top of her class. One where Kate never tried to commit suicide, where Rachel and Victoria apparently didn't have to run away from Russian agents in fear for their lives.

 _...huh. I wonder, though. Journal says they mysteriously went off to New York, around the time that Incident 34 would have happened. So does that mean they're working for S.O.A.P.? But they're still students here at Blackwell! Does that mean Martinet lightened up? Or maybe he's not in charge. Oh! Maybe this is a timeline where he totally died in a car wreck or got ripped apart by wild dogs or…!_

Max immediately stopped herself; she wasn't going to let anger or some reflexive need for vengeance cloud what few remaining hours she had. All that mattered is that as far as she could see, this world was the best one she could have hoped for.

 _I don't want to waste my whole day reading, though. I think I've got enough figured out...so…._

She glanced over to the cell phone on her desk; it was locked, but there was a handy "Master guide" left to her with every password to every account that the new Max set up. Soon, she was dialing her parents in Seattle, only to discover they were neither home, nor picking up their cell phones. She then tried Chloe.

She winced as it went straight to voicemail.

"H-hey. Hey baby. Um...it's me. I'm really missing you today. So give me a call as soon as you get this, okay? Bye...oh! I love you."

 _Ah! God! What the hell, world? Is this some sort of cruel joke? Give me a day, only this is the day where no one is picking up the fucking phone?!_

Max was on the edge of tears when she sent Chloe a text, only for it to go unanswered over the next half hour. While she waited, she jumped online, confirming that New York City was indeed wholly intact. She was too nervous to try searching for anything else, at least anything sensitive: Damocles or any of her friends there...none of whom would remember her, anyhow.

 _But Cammie would of know of me, assuming she read the big long letter I wrote her. Oh! She must have, because clearly she sent Alanna to do what was obviously a contact scan back in 2010._

Deciding that she was wasting way too much time, she impulsively strode out from her dorm room and into the hallway. She then immediately turned around and went back inside after she noticed her reflection in a window and saw that her makeup was a complete wreck from crying. It was another few minutes of hasty correction before she went out and tried again.

After a quick check of the directory, she made her way to Kate's room.

 _Please be here, please be here. Don't be some shitty ironic Twilight Zone kinda thing, where I'm the only person in the world because this is really just my last dying dream or something…_

It was with great relief that the door opened; Kate glanced over, and then smiled happily. "Hi, Max. What's up? Are we still on for tea next week?"

"Huh? Oh! Yeah. Tea. Definitely. We are definitely on...because I definitely love tea! Uhhh." She blushed, cleared her throat, and then suddenly leaned in to hug Kate tightly. The embrace was returned, and at first Kate laughed gently, before pulling back and looking at her with concern.

"Max, are you okay?"

"Yeah! Yeah...I'm….I'm fine...well...no. I mean, I had a weird dream last night. Nightmare, really. I dreamed that I only had a few hours to live, but I couldn't find any of my friends or family, or people I cared about, to say goodbye. It felt super-real at the time, and I just...I wanted to see all my friends today, and give them hugs, because I'm a dork. That's all."

Kate let her come inside, and nodded. "Of course! I totally understand."

Max gratefully entered and started glancing around the room. She wasn't sure what she was looking for. Signs of distress? Some clue that things weren't as perfect as they should be? Some hidden cost, or an ironic twist? Like maybe Kate secretly worshipped Satan now, or was permanently estranged from her parents.

 _How bad is it that I'm finding normality completely freaky? Also: don't be an idiot Max. Kate was your junior year roomie. I'm sure I would have discovered anything weird about her in the journals.  
_

"Actually, I'm glad you're here; I've been meaning to ask you this all week, but you've been kind of hard to pin down lately. Ms. Leibovitz mentioned that we could collaborate on our end-of-term project, and I was thinking...we always talked in the past about working together on something, and now's our chance."

Max smiled, almost painfully wide. She closed her eyes and flashed back to that moment in the hospital, before answering.

"Like...you think maybe a book?"

"Oh! Maybe? I figure we can sit down and brainstorm later this weekend or next week. But it sounds like you have some ideas already, huh?" Kate smiled happily at this.

"Yeah…" Max said softly. She then turned around and said in a more confident tone, "Yeah!" She reached over, taking Kate's hand. "A book. Like, you do such awesome drawings. Why not something that had illustrations and photography together?"

"That sounds really great, Max. I like it! The only hard part will be figuring out what to make it about."

"I got some ideas, Kate. Believe me. But look, it's Saturday. No school talk on a Saturday." She winked and continued. "How about lunch? We could go to Two Whales? My treat. But...but I'd like to bring some other folks. At the very least, Rachel and Tori.

Kate paused for a moment, as an uncertain look crossed her face. "Well, I don't want to be a third wheel..."

Max winced. There were a few entries she'd read that made it sound like though she herself was surprisingly popular with a wide range of students at Blackwell, that didn't mean everyone in her social circle got along with each other.

"I...uh...I know maybe you and Victoria don't see eye to eye on some things and...well, it's just important for me to be with a bunch of my friends, is all. I'll play peacemaker if I have to." She followed this up with what she hoped was a winning enough smile.

Kate tilted her head and said, "Oh. Alright then." She paused, then asked, "Are you _sure_ you're okay, Max?"

"Yeah! Yeah, I'm great. Like I said just creeped out from that nightmare. Anyhow, I'll text you when we're ready. Let me go and see who else I can grab."

Exiting Kate's dorm, and then making her way down the hall, she softly knocked on Rachel's door and waited. She was about to knock for a third time when the door opened.

Rachel was wrapped up in a long, white terry-cloth towel, her hair hanging in wet strands down her back. She smirked, and waved off-handedly. "Yo, M. How's it going, girl? You recovered yet from last night's shameless excesses?" She held out a fist, and Max paused, before realizing she needed to give it a bump.

 _What's she talking...oh...wait. Didn't they have like a major smoke session yesterday? That's probably what she's talking about._

"Hah. Uhh...yeah? Not all the way though, had a weird dream, left me feeling kinda freaked. You?"

"Well no shit, babes. You hit those dabs like it was last your last night on Earth or something. Must have gone through half the 'wax' I brought back from New York. Just do me a favor and pay a sister back in kind next time. And I do mean in 'kind'." Rachel was smiling wide and easy as she spoke.

Max shook her head, pretending to be embarrassed. "Yeah. I guess I _did_ go a little crazy...huh?"

Rachel shrugged. "Whatev. I mean, we did sorta get into a contest about it. You fucking win, by the way. I'm woman enough to admit that. Anyhow, what brings you 'round?"

"Oh! Well uh...like I said. Feeling freaked. Looking to surround myself with friends. I wanna take some folks to Two Whales for lunch. On me. You down?"

"Free food and cool company? Oh gee, let me fucking think about that one for a moment. I have such a busy social calendar this season." Pantomiming grabbing a book and looking through it, Rachel muttered, "I _did_ have tea scheduled with the Sultan of Dubai, but fuck that guy, he's a dick. Let's do it!"

"Great!" Max exclaimed. "Why don't you text me when you're ready. I'm gonna track down Victoria, and ask her if she wants to come."

"Victoria already did, half an hour ago." said a voice. Max turned around, spotting the short-haired blonde who was wrapped in a black silk bathrobe; she was heading away from the direction of the bathroom. Victoria gave her a wink, and then pushed Rachel back into her dorm room, stealing a quick, intense kiss from her.

Blushing furiously, Max gave a laugh and murmured. "Hey...uh...so...you wanna come with us to the diner? I'm paying. And uh...Kate's coming with, too."

Victoria paused, glancing over at her, and then Rachel, who said, "Max had a pretty fucked up night last night, nightmares and shit. She's looking to hang with her homegirls. I know you and K aren't super best friends, but maybe…?"

After a short pause, Victoria said, "Uhh...yeah. Okay. Sure. I _can_ be nice, actually, when I want to be. Also, sorry to hear about that. Believe me, I know how much being overstoned like that sucks. On the other hand, you _were_ totally overdoing it. So much for that vaunted tolerance of yours, huh?" She smirked, but not unkindly.

Max groaned softly, wishing she felt half as cool as she apparently was in this timeline. She smirked right back, however, and said, "Yuuuup. Guess so. But I still beat both your asses down, didn't I?" eliciting a laugh from both of them.

"So uh...you two lovebirds get dressed, and I'll be waiting outside."

* * *

An hour later, the four of them were ensconced in a booth at the diner, idly chatting away as they looked through the menu, decided what to eat, plotted out what to play on the jukebox, and discussed how to spend the rest of their weekend.

Naturally, Max had an ulterior motive for specifically heading to the Two Whales. She knew there was a good chance she'd run into Joyce there, and her heart leapt when it quickly became clear that this was one of the days she was working.

"Well howdy, darlin'!" Joyce walked up, leaning in to plant a motherly kiss on the top of her head. "Always good to see you." She nodded over to the others in greeting, then turned back to Max. "Must admit, I thought you were headed up to Corvallis to go hiking with Chloe. She was doing that...oh what's it called? Geo-caching? The thing with the GPS? You two love doing that together, don't you?"

Max chided herself for not studying the journals more intently before heading out the door. She'd have to fake it as best she could.

"Yeah! Oh, def. But uh...I got kinda sick last night, so I had to beg off. Miss her though. I actually kinda...uh...forgot about the hike? Guess that's why she didn't pick up when I called her when I woke up this morning."

Joyce nodded in agreement. "Mmmhmmm, not a lot of signal out where she's headed. Anyhow, what can I get you all?"

Max ordered far more than she should have. On the other hand, this was literally her last meal, assuming she didn't have dinner.

She tried not to think about it; she did her best to ignore the finality of the act, and how it made the lizard part of her brain scream at her, at how dare she simply embrace the notion of going gentle into that good night. She knew the truth of the matter though: whether or not she ordered the chilli waffle fries, the bacon cheeseburger, the malted chocolate milkshake, or the slice of pecan pie wouldn't have any bearing on what would happen to her when the sun came up tomorrow.

 _Eat, drink and be merry, for tomorrow I actually die._

And fortunately, one of the nice things about having friends is that they're more than happy to help you eat your chilli fries.

Max did her best to facilitate the conversation and keep it flowing, but she was reluctant to actively participate. There were too many opportunities for her to slip up. While she was keenly aware that any oddness in her behavior would easily be explained away once she returned to 'normal' tomorrow, she thought it best not to cause too many problems for 'Neo Max'. Instead, she bantered lightly and easily with Rachel and Kate. She smiled to herself when Kate and Victoria actually started having a terse, if respectful conversation, working past whatever strain and weirdness existed between them.

Despite her caution, there were moments Max couldn't quite help herself, especially when it came to satisfying her curiosity about New York City.

"So...New York. Did you two spend the whole time in Manhattan?"

Rachel nodded once, answering around a mouthful of salad. "Mostly. Went to Brooklyn once. Had to check out Williamsburg, of course. Although I'm told all the hip people are bailing out for Jersey City these days."

Max glanced down, smiled mischievously, and asked, "Did you guys check out Chinatown?"

Rachel didn't blink, but there was a perturbation in Victoria's body language that, combined with years of training, told Max everything she needed to know. Again, Rachel did the talking.

"Oh, we passed through there. You know, had to take in the whole city experience, but we didn't get to sightsee as much as I would have liked. Still, oh my God though, we do need to go as a group. It's huge. Bigger than you can imagine. Way more than Seattle or Portland. And it's...uh...it's different. Hard to explain more than that, except to say the East Coast is _not_ the West Coast.

Max of course immediately understood what she was talking about. But then she took it a step too far, her enthusiasm and desire to participate causing her mouth to run ahead of her common sense.

"I was in Chinatown once. There was a really neat cafe, full of Asian desserts. And then I wandered around for a bit, on Orchard and I think Elizabeth Street. Some of it was cool, but there were a couple of big old abandoned buildings that were sad and creepy."

Victoria paused, narrowed her eyes, and pointedly asked, "Max, when were you ever in New York City?"

Mouth growing dry from nerves, heart thudding hard in her chest, Max realized she'd completely painted herself into a corner. The power of five years of force of habit, honed into unthinking instinct, compelled her to try and rewind.

Naturally, she was reminded that avenue was no longer available to her.

For the first time in her adult life, Max was going to have to save herself from her own mistakes without the benefit of time control.

 _Fuck! Think...think! You've been actually trained for this sort of thing. Think about what you've read, what you know. Get yourself out of this. You can do it!_

Still, she paused, longer than she probably should have, quickly filling in the missing time with a slurp of her milkshake, giving herself a brief window of excusable time to compose her thoughts.

And then it hit her.

"When I went to Iceland and Italy, duh." She smiled pleasantly. "Had a long connection in New York. Enough to dart into the city to look around, because when the hell else am I going to get a chance to do that? Better than cooling my heels at JFK for seven hours."

Victoria's eyes widened, and she nodded. "Oh! Right. Well, it probably hasn't changed all that much in two years…"

Max was fairly certain she'd managed to cover herself, and did her best to keep from giving into paranoia over it. All the same, she was more diligent about checking herself for the rest of the conversation.

After a few more minutes of idle chatter, Kate finally spoke up. "Did you all hear about Nathan? And what happened last week?"

Rachel nodded once, frowning deeply. Victoria reached over and took her hand, clearly far more torn and conflicted. She clenched her jaw as she glanced sideways towards the window.

Max did her best to fish for more details, without seeming like she was doing so. She feigned a slip in memory. "Ohhh...yeah. The uh...um…."

"The suicide attempt...at the correctional facility." Victoria breathed out.

Max nodded once. "Yeah. That. Heavy shit."

 _Fuck. Jesus, not like I knew Nathan. I mean, he went so nuts that he tried to kill Chloe, and insane-at-the-time me had to stop him. But in the end, the journals made it sound like he was a troubled kid getting it both ways from his Dad and Mark Jefferson. Christ. I...I never thought...I mean, it never occurred to me to tell myself to find Nathan and try to be a friend, so that people like Mr. Jefferson couldn't get their hooks into . I didn't know...  
_

She couldn't help but feel sorry for Nathan now. Worse yet was the sudden realization that maybe she could have altered the past so that Nathan was possibly saved as well. Redeemed. Given a shot at a better life than being held in custody somewhere, and driven to the point of trying to kill himself. If only she'd tried harder, or thought it through better. Thought of him as an actual person, and not as only some asshole antagonist that needed to be 'dealt with'. Suddenly Max found herself filled with regret, wishing she could go back. One last time, to somehow try and make things just a little bit better.

 _I can't. Not any more. I have to take the good and the bad of what I've done, and...well. Live with it. For uh...sixteen more hours at any rate._

Kate continued, "I've been thinking a lot about that. About people in general, who feel lost and alone, and...and what would drive someone to that kind of despair. So um...I was thinking about volunteering at a suicide prevention hotline." She turned to Max and said, "Maybe we could make our project about that kind of thing?"

Rachel tilted her head, intrigued, "Oh? Project?"

Max quickly answered, "Yeah. Kate and I are talking about joining forces, since we're allowed. For the final project, y'know?" She grabbed one of the remaining fries, using it to scoop up what few bits of cheese and chilli remained. She suddenly remarked out of the blue, "Four people would work as easily as two. Maybe better?"

She cringed inwardly, as she looked over the other three girls, each of them appraising her. She couldn't stop herself from wondering…

 _...oh God. Is this something the other Max would say? Would she be cool with any of this? Am I totally wrecking her social life right now?_

It was Victoria who spoke first.

"I...I think that would be...it's a good idea. There's - uh - I mean there's no reason why this project can't be artistic and socially meaningful at the same time, right?" She then glanced over at Kate. "And Kate. Um, when you go and sign up for this suicide prevention thing? Maybe you could bring me along? I'd at least like to see more about it."

Kate stammered, clearly unsure what to say at first, but then smiling as she found her voice.

"S-sure. I mean...that's wonderfu!. I'd really like it if I could do this sort of thing with a fri- ah - with someone I know."

A soft silence fell over the table, broken by the sound of Rachel slurping the last of her soda through the straw, giving a soft sigh of satisfaction, and then saying with a impish grin to both of the blondes, "Awesome. Now kiss!"

Max laughed, as much in relief as in good humor.

Lunch lasted for almost another forty-five minutes before the four of them went their separate ways. They made plans to meet up again tomorrow, so they could try and plot out some actual directions their project might take. Max hung back, wanting to spend time with Joyce when she took her break.

"Awww, thank you, sweetheart. You didn't have to," she said. "Appreciate it all the same. Have to admit, it's still strange seeing you here without Chloe right by your side. But little less than a year, you'll both be off somewhere else. Together, the way it's always meant to be."

Max bowed her head and blushed. She nodded, a wide smile on her face. As the two of them made small talk, she couldn't help but notice a difference between the Joyce that was here now and the Joyce she met earlier in her subjective week. There was a light inside; it wasn't anything that was missing in the previous version, but it was something far more vibrant. Only now did Max fully appreciate how much having a daughter who made it through school with top marks, and who managed to find at least some sort of vaguely peaceful co-existence with her stepfather would impact Joyce. There was a subtle but profound change to her outward personality. Well, perhaps not so much a change as a brightening of what was already there. Life was clearly good for her, so why wouldn't it show?

* * *

Max returned to her dorm in the late afternoon. The sun was beginning to set, and soon enough, night would fall. She tried Chloe again, to no avail, then called her parents.

She suddenly realized she was completely unprepared for what would happen when they answered the phone; what would she say, how would she act? From her perspective, years had passed since she'd last seen or heard from them, in a timeline where their memories of her were destroyed. Worst of all, she'd never be able to share her relief, or obviously shed her tears of joy at hearing them whole and healthy.

Her father was the one to answer.

"Heyyyy kiddo! How are you?"

She willed her shaky breathing to calm, pleased that her voice only cracked in the very beginning as she responded.

"H-hi Da...daddy."

"Ut-oooh." Ryan Caulfield said with a humorous tone. "You haven't called me that since you were fifteen. Are you in trouble?"

"What?! N-no. I just...I missed you! That's all. But, um, I had a really bad dream last night. One where everyone I knew and loved...they were gone, and I was never going to see them again. I know it sounds silly, but it really shook me up. I woke up - uh - almost crying. I'm okay now, but it _did_ make me want to hear your guys voices again."

"Awwwwww. Max. S'okay. We're here, and we're fine. Hold on, let me get your mother." He moved his mouth away from the phone, calling out, "Vanessa! Hon? Pick up the phone. It's Max!"

A few seconds later, an older female voice chimed in.

"Hi sweetie. My goodness, three calls in a week and a half from our teenaged child. What an age of wonders we live in!"

Max clapped her hands over the cell phone, muffling the worst of the sobs that suddenly tore through her. She kept the phone to her ear as her body shook for a few seconds more with the effort of calming herself down.

"Max? Are you there? Are you okay?"

"Fine...I'm fine, Mom. Just...rough night."

"Seems Max had a pretty nasty nightmare last night," Ryan said

"Oooh! Honey, I'm sorry to hear that. Anything we can do?"

It hurt so much to swallow down her emotions; instead, she focused on her exuberant joy, letting it spill into her voice.

"Yeah, you're doing it already, Mom. Really good to hear your voices. Just because I'm an adult now - ah - you know, sometimes I might act like I'm embarrassed by my parents, but you know, I love you both. No matter what."

"Hah. we'll take mushy any day of the week, Max." her fathered replied. "Doesn't matter. We loved you when you were broody and aloof at fourteen, and we love you just as much now, as the young woman you've become."

Max held it together, as she was fussed over and reassured by her parents. After the first five minutes, it got easier, as the initial tsunami wave of emotion passed. She asked them about their day, their week. What her father was doing these days at the architectural firm. She discovered her mother had returned to practicing law.

Max was incredibly grateful for the coded index that was available to her; pulling that out along with a few journals, she was quickly able to pull up a few details on the fly, topics for conversation, memories to reminisce about. Camping trips, excursions to the city. She could at least, on her own, recall and talk about the old days when they all lived in Arcadia Bay.

They chatted away for the better part of an hour and a half before the conservation came to a natural conclusion. Resisting the urge to keep them on the phone all night, Max let them go.

"Max, this was so lovely. Thank you for calling us today," her mother said. "Would you mind if we came up for a visit next weekend?"

"No! I mean...no...not at all. That'd be really great."

"Alright, well, it's Saturday night, so I know you're probably itching to head out and party. Just don't get into too much trouble, alright?" her father asked as he chuckled.

"Hah. Yeah. Don't worry, Dad. Believe it or not, I think I'm gonna keep it low key tonight. Um, so talk to you soon, I guess. G'bye."

"Goodbye, Max. Have a great day tomorrow."

"Goodnight, sweetie. Love you."

She breathed out quickly, before ending the call.

"I love you, too."

It was a good five minutes before she stopped crying again.

After the phone call, Max spent time walking about campus, smiling to herself as the darkling sky slowly extinguished the remaining light of the day. She waved to the friends who recognized her, but did her best to politely avoid getting pulled into lengthy conversations. As she walked up to the edge of the campus treeline, where the forest awaited her, she hugged herself tight, staring hungrily into the distance.

There was a whole world out there. Places she'd never seen. Things she'd never done. She could be free now. Or she could try to be, at least.

 _I could run. I could just take off, and keep going, and going, and going...and maybe that would be enough. Maybe the Universe would let me stay here somehow, and I could live this way for the rest of my life. I could run all the way to Chloe, and then we could hit the road, like we were gonna, in the old timeline..._

And if she could? Then what? How much would it cost her? Her soul? If her staying meant the other Max, the one who actually belonged here, was gone forever?

Max bowed her head, took a deep breath, and turned away. Whatever was out there? It wasn't for her.

At least, not this version of her.

"I got to talk to my parents. I actually got to tell them I loved them, one last time." she whispered to herself. "And I'll probably talk to Chloe tonight, too."

She could see it now: that was the prize, the consolation for her impending dissipation.

What else did she really want?

What more could she possibly need?

She smiled, sad but satisfied as she turned around and walked back towards the campus.

* * *

It was almost nine o'clock when she gently rapped on Rachel's door.

"Hey M. You come to drag us away for a free dinner now?"

"Hah. No. But - uh - you guys mind if we chill tonight? I mean, if you and Tori had other plans, that's cool. But we could go to my room, and watch a movie, or get baked. Heh. Or whatever, you know?"

Victoria poked her head over Rachel's shoulder. "We're already watching a movie, and smoke'm the peace pipe, so get in here quick, bitch." she laughed.

Max stepped inside, smiling warmly. "Awesome. So whatcha guys watching?"

"Oh, some old weird cartoon movie. Because Ms. Anime has a fetish for that sort of thing."

Victoria gave Rachel a playful smack on her rear. "And what's wrong with that? Heavy Metal is...rough, but unappreciated. If nothing else, you could say it led to better things."

"Yes, yes, right, of course. Forgive me, oh my Queen." Rachel replied.

Max couldn't help but blink, covering up her mouth as she suppressed a laugh.

"What?" Rachel inquired.

"Oh. Nothing. Only...have I told you lately how adorable you two are? And Heavy Metal! Oooh! Yeah, I've seen that one before. Not all that long ago. With the green orb, and the woman with the white hair, right?"

"That's the one!" Victoria called out as she started packing the bowl of a small bong. "Babe, plug up the door with a towel, would you?"

And so the movie was watched. Weed was smoked. A pizza was ordered and eaten. The three of them laughed and chatted through the movie, making fun of the more cringeworthy scenes, the hamfisted voice acting, and of course, the smut. They commented on the visuals and the use of color, and how stupid but enjoyable 'old people' music was way back then.

When it was over, the topic of watching another movie was discussed. Max's phone started to buzz, prompting her to pull it out of her pocket.

 **Chlo-stick:** Hey baby! I just got back. You 'kay?

 **Chlo-stick** : Feeling better?

Max smiled from ear to ear, as her heart lept. She quickly replied.

 **Maxymillions:** Much, now that I'm talking to you!

 **Chlo-stick:** Wanna Skype?

 **Maxymillions:** Yes! Gimme a min.

"Uhh...uhh...you guys wanna get started without me?" she asked. "Gonna go back to my room for a little while and talk to Chloe."

"Sure. Go. Tell her we say hi. We can wait a little bit for you." Rachel said.

"Unless you two start having phone sex again. In which case, you're on your own for the rest of the night!" Victoria said, dissolving into giggles as she curled up on the bed.

Max blushed, quickly darted out and returned to her room. She hopped onto her laptop as quickly as possible, finding the Skype control panel was already up, with a waiting request from Chloe's end. The smile on her face grew in radiant intensity as Chloe's face filled her screen. She then pulled back a bit, giving Max a better look at her body.

 _Haha. Wow. Weeeeird. With the pink hair and...it's like she's totally Chloe! But, so totally not, either._

She was the same, but significant differences. There were more nose and ear piercings, but far fewer tattoos. Gone was the full sleeve running down the arm, replaced with a smaller, but vibrantly colored blue morpho butterfly on her bicep, wings spread, with rainbow colored tendrils curling in its wake. The trademark beanie was nowhere to be seen, and while her hair was roughly the same short length, it fell across the right side of her face, partially obscuring it.

"Heyyy babydoll." Chloe softly cooed. "Are you feeling better from this morning?"

"Huh? Oh. Oh! Yeah. Kinda. Mostly. I had a really bad dream last night. Sad, and weird, but I took a bunch of people out to lunch, and that helped me feel better."

"Awww. Sorry, cutie. You didn't sound so hot when you called me to cancel last night. Just as well, it turns out that some asshole ahead of our group wrecked the cache when we found it. Man! That is totally against the code you know? Anyhow, I stuck around longer than I meant to, because someone had to clean it up, put in a few new goodies, and update the log book. But I seriously missed you, sweetie. This has always been our thing, and it was hella weird doing it without you."

"Yeah, well." Max whispered, smiling wide to keep the tears out of her eyes. "Sometimes life gets complicated. But it's okay. We can try again next weekend or something, right? Oh...oh wait. My folks are coming down to visit next weekend. Later this month?"

"Right! I've already got the next one in mind. It's just outside of Portland, awesome walk near the mountain and everything. We could do it close to Halloween, so we could make a really special weekend of it, tooooo." Chloe said, waggling her eyebrows.

"Mmmmm! It's a date!" Max laughed, ignoring the steel fist viciously squeezing her heart.

"So who did you go out to lunch with?"

"Oh. The gang. Rachel and Victoria. Even Kate."

Chloe blinked slightly. "Wow. Kate and Victoria? I mean, they don't throw down in the halls, but they're...they're not friends."

"I know. But I think maybe it was time to get them hanging out together. I actually got them all to agree to work with me on our final project. Kate's idea, actually. Um, I think they're bonding a little? After what happened with Nathan Prescott last week. We're thinking about doing a project on suicide prevention."

Chloe shook her head and hummed. "Wow. Yeah. Hella fucked up. I mean, I'm still really fucking pissed at him and Jefferson for what they tried to do, but in the end, it sounded like Nathan was absolutely screwy in the head and being manipulated. I remember Victoria saying he almost seemed relieved that she caught and stopped him….but. Well, _you_ know, I like her well enough, but I think she's biased on this. I never liked the guy, and I never will. Anyhow, good for you! That's a really great thing. And if anyone can bring people together, it's my Maxima. That was always your secret mutant power."

Max covered up her eyes to keep the tears from showing, making sure to keep smiling and softly laughing all the while.

 _...she's so much like_ my _Chloe. But...but she's totally not, either!_

Already, Max could see it, similar to what she saw in Joyce: this version of her was softer. Gentler. All those sharp edges worn down over the years by a kinder life and better influences. This Chloe's soul was one that had long ago made peace with the losses existence had cruelly dealt her years earlier. She'd moved ahead with her life a long time ago, whereas the blue haired skater punk Max had fallen so hard for was only just starting that journey of healing when they'd parted.

Oh God. She suddenly missed her so much, like hooks tearing through her heart. Certainly, this Chloe, with her pink hair, loving devotion, and curious hobbies was wonderful, and Max knew that if she was stuck here forever, she'd of course learn to love her in a heartbeat. But she wasn't _her_ Chloe, all lean, wiry frame, smoldering stare, fuck you-attitude, and ready to slap you down if you dissed her or anyone she gave her heart away to.

That Chloe was gone forever. Not even dead; she never even existed. Only now did Max see that the timeline she came from, despite its doomed state, its darkening pall, and moments of ugliness, held elements of timeless beauty and joy. Triumph and wonder. Her blue-haired soulmate had been a thorny rose, growing defiantly in the cracks of a parking lot. The Chloe that belonged to the new Max was more like a tall, triumphant orchid, lovingly nurtured in a hothouse, where it was allowed to grow to its full potential. Beautiful as well, but still so unlike the rose.

Max had left behind a whole precious universe, one with every right to live. One she'd been forced to destroy, in order to save it. She finally understood the truth of the matter, at long last: she was the sole survivor of a world that was long gone. There would be no permanent place for her here, and she was quickly wearing out her welcome.

But she was here now, for a little while longer. No point in letting the time go to waste.

"Max? Honey? Are you okay?"

Wiping away at her eyes, and smiling through her watery vision, she quickly nodded. "I...I am! Sorry, it's really good to hear your voice. So tell me everything you did today, okay? I want to hear all the details!"

* * *

It was nearly one in the morning by the time their call ended. Max knew she'd be staying up the rest of the night.

 _What's the point? I'll be sleeping forever, soon enough._

She lovingly extracted a few more journals, pouring through them at random intervals. Laughing, crying, gasping, raging; there was so much here, more than she could possibly go over, even if she spent her remaining hours doing nothing else. Deciding to leave her mark, she began writing commentary in the margins and the blank spaces.

 _OMG. You met Alanna! She's not crazy, she's actually really awesome and sweet. I uh...I know her. I think she was trying to find out if you were really me. I hate to ask you this, but if you have her card still? Don't call her. It would only make things confusing._

 _Japan!? I always wanted to go there. I kind of sort of have friends there. The furthest I ever got in the Pacific was Fiji...I think?_

 _Uhhh….does Chloe do that thing...you know...where she crosses her eyes, if you nibble on that one little spot, right behind her ear?_

 _Ugh! Warren. He was a nice kid in middle school, but he totally came up and tried to take a drunk selfie with my in my timeline, two days ago. Can't believe he ever thought he stood a chance, when we have both have our Chloe's._

 _It's funny, that your first kiss with Chloe was at the bunker in the junkyard. I thought to myself that if I never got picked up by the Feds, the two of us would get together anyhow, and have it there. Guess I was right. For the record though, in my timeline, it was on a Ferris wheel, at the Marion County fair. She did the most amazing thing, where she bribed the attendant to stop the wheel at the top for a few minutes, so she could confess her feelings to me._

 _Don't beat yourself up over Stella; you definitely made a difference! In my timeline, Rachel suddenly left town a few days before Stella was kidnapped and murdered. I always assumed Stella was the primary target, but now that I'm thinking about it, what if she was just the consolation prize? What if the original plan all along was for them to go after Rachel? I had no way of knowing, and as I didn't give you a lot to work with, neither did you. Still, it doesn't matter, either way. Whatever the truth is, you still rose up, grabbed a gun, and got yourself ready to protect her. That's more than most people would have done._

She paused in order to use the bathroom. As she washed her face and hands for the last time, she glanced over, watching as a sleepy looking Rachel made her way in. Max walked over and gave her a tight hug.

"Mmmmmhey. 'Zat for?" Rachel yawned, sleepily returning the embrace.

"Just...stay awesome, okay Rache?"

The other woman laughed low, trundling her way over towards the stall. "Hey, s'me. Mmmmalways *yaaaaaawn* awesome. G'night, M."

"Goodbye….Aegis."

Max quickly walked out.

Rachel sat down on the toilet. It was a good minute before she rubbed her weary eyes, blinked, and glanced up.

"Wait, what?"

* * *

Max had two hours left before sunrise. Grabbing the latest journal, she turned to the next blank page, and wrote:

 _ **October 13th, 2013**_

 _I woke up yesterday morning, but I wasn't feeling like myself._

 _Ha ha!_

…

 _Okay, for cereal._

 _Dear Max,_

 _That was pretty crazy, wasn't it? You waking up, thinking it was going to be your last day. You waking up the day before that, thinking you only had two days left. And a year ago, and you thought, "This is it. My last year." I am totes in awe of what you did. Embracing and accepting this fucked up destiny. And your last act was to make_ my _life easier, even as you thought I was stealing it away from you._

 _Jesus, I mean, who does that?! Who is that cool?_

 _Well...me, I guess. That's who._

 _First off, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry I put you through all that. It was such a shitty and thoughtless thing to do, traumatizing you that way. But maybe that was for the best, right? Part of me hoped that if you saw it coming, you'd be able to survive, and maybe that had something to do with how well everything's worked out in the end_

 _Thank you, first of all, for giving me this day, however you pulled that off. I was so scared, right at the moment where I realized I was going to die. Afraid, and lonely, and angry. I needed time to come to grips with what was happening. To find a measure of peace in my life. The way you did._

 _And I have. More or less.  
_

 _Because I did have a pretty great day today! If people ask you if you're okay, and why were you acting so weird, I apologize, I really don't know how to be you. But boy, people do like you! You're friends with so many other folks here at the school, and like Rachel, you come by it naturally. I don't have time to tell you all of the shit in my life, and the less you know, the better, but I spent almost all my teenage years locked away in a dungeon. Yes, literally. That fucks a person up. I mean, duh, but yeah. It damaged me deeply. But I think seeing what I_ could _be like, the person I could have become if I was given the right chance and the proper circumstances, was healing. Kind of like watching an ugly little cygnet turn into the most amazing swan!_

 _By the way, I got you roped into a class project with Kate, Victoria, and Rachel. Sorry if it accidentally wrecks anything you already had in mind, but I think you'll like it. I'm pretty sure you'll agree it's important, if nothing else._

 _So, I ate too much food at the diner, and I got to talk to Joyce, and I got to talk to Chloe, too._ Your _Chloe. I told you a bunch about mine already in some of the pages in your journals._

 _And I got to talk to my parents, Max._

 _Your parents, but still mine, too! You have no idea how happy that made me. I don't want to freak you out, but in my timeline, my folks got their minds crazy damaged. Their memories of me were taken away from them. In one possible future, the damage was repaired, but not without someone else paying the price. So - uh. It really doesn't matter. Where I'm from, or what happened to it. All I care about is that for the first time in two or three years, I got to hear their voices! They told me they loved me, and I told them I loved them back._

 _That alone was worth it._

 _It won't be long now. I'm heading up to the roof. I wish I had more time to tell you about myself. About what I saw, and did. But some of it, a lot of it, was bad. Horrible. Shit you don't need haunting you. But I also had an absolutely amazing last week. Like the universe knew my time was coming to an end, and gave me all those days as a final send off. I got to see my best friend for the first time in five years. I got to help her heal, and move away from all the pain and trauma she'd been living with after her dad died. We fell in love. We made love. We even joined up with Rachel and Victoria, though it was mostly because they were trying to bring us in to the Zaibatsu for a five million dollar payday._

 _That...yeah. I'm gonna leave you hanging on that one. Don't ask them about it though. Trust me. They probably wouldn't understand.  
_

 _But I got to see that everything is going to be okay. Really, that's all I can tell you, Max. No matter what. Everything is going to be absolutely great now. I promise. Please don't lose that amazing spirit of yours. Of ours. That fearless courage. Do me a favor, and keep living the way you have been up 'til now. Not for me, or for anyone else, but for yourself!_

 _I feel like there's a million more things I should be writing here. I could fill this whole book._

 _But I'm tired, Max. I'm suddenly so tired. And It's time to put this story to bed._

 _Keep having the best life. And thank you for letting me have a day of it._

 _Love forever,_

 _The Once and Future Max Caulfield._

* * *

Up on the roof, where in another reality, she talked Kate into stepping back and choosing to live, the weariness that began creeping through Max's bones continued to weigh her down. She could feel her energy fading away, bit by tiny bit. Already, the distant glow of false dawn was chasing away the thick of the darkness.

She clutched the smartphone in her hand, fingers tapping away as she inputed a complicated sequence of letters and numbers, just as she did in New York City. There was one last person to call. A few final questions to have answered. Then she could watch the sunrise...and stop.

Just stop.

She leaned back against the wall next to the door, and slowly sunk down into a sitting position, as she heard the phone ring on the other end.

 _Be nice if this works. If she picks up. I mean, not anything I can do about it if she doesn't. But...it'd be nice._

After a good twenty seconds, the line was answered. A voice inquired, "Are you there?"

Max took a breath, smiled to herself, and answered, "Hello, Camilla. This is Max Caulfield."

Dead silence filled the line. She waited a few seconds before asking, "Are _you_ there?"

"W-what?" Camilla stammered. "Yes. Yes! My God. Are you really her?"

"Yeah," Max said quietly. "It's me. You got my big long letter, I see. Anyhow, sorry for not calling before, but I couldn't have done it before today. And I won't be able to do it after. Ever again. It's...complicated."

"That's putting it mildly! Of course, I'd always hoped something like this might happen, but I had absolutely no reason to believe it ever would. Your letter made it quite clear that when you created this new timeline, you'd have no memory about or knowledge of me. About anything related to all of us. And after keeping you under observation for the better part of a year, I had no reason to believe otherwise."

"Hah. Yeah, I know. I saw. In 2010, I think? You sent Alanna to probe her, right? Spill the coffee on her...the Max of this timeline, I mean. She wrote about it in her journal, but she thinks Alanna was just some overemotional wacko. You and I know better." She paused. "Okay, out of curiosity? What did your scan show?"

"Well, clearly you weren't a Special. But there were some curious anomalies. Nothing I would expect to see in a normal human. So you weren't a Special, but you weren't exactly _not_ a Special, either. In your letter, you said your plan was to convince your younger self to somehow not Emerge? Which, to the best of my knowledge, is absolutely impossible."

"Neat." Max breathed out. "

"Obviously, whatever you did worked to the point where she didn't develop powers, but you...she...was changed. In ways I've never been able to fully understand, not without being able to drag her into my lab and subject her to a battery of tests," Camilla continued. " But as she didn't pose any threat to national security, I left her be."

 _Well, that probably explains some shit. Like how I got to be here, today. She must have been just 'special' enough to change the game.  
_

With a rising note of concern, she asked, "Max? What's happened? I imagine something extraordinary must have transpired for you to be calling like this."

Max started to laugh. "It occurred to me that this is my last chance to tell you I'm officially resigning from S.O.A.P. and hanging it up as a Damocles agent. Sorry. You can even tell Martinet I fucking quit. Or...don't. I mean...I hope you didn't tell him a damn thing about me? You know, like I asked? I figure you must have kept him in the dark, because you left Young Me alone."

"Ah, the _former_ director hasn't been a problem for a long while. The whole bailiwick is mine now, actually. I do so hate sitting behind a desk most of the time, but you made me realize the importance of ensuring that the right people stay in the right places."

"Ha! Really, no shit? How did you pull that off?"

"Oh! Nothing untoward, I assure you." Camilla said. "Your - pseudo-Emergence - whatever you want to call it, was never an event we could confirm or triangulate with PAN-Opticon. There were also other - ah - complications involved, that I can go into detail about if you like? To be honest, I would have never known about any of it, had I not received your letter. Martinet spent the whole two and a half years of his tenure rattling sabres and threatening to upset the fragile detente that existed between us and the other various Specials groups. With no proper justification whatsoever. Perhaps if he had something to show for it, say, a girl who could manipulate time, or a boy who could cause nuclear explosions, he might have been able to justify his paranoia and unpleasant management style to Homeland Security."

There was a playful lilt in Camilla's voice as she added, "But for some strange reason, he never found out about your letter. I brought Rodrigeuz and Reese into my confidence to secretly monitor you from afar, and for some strange reason, _they_ never told him either." She laughed lightly. "But in the end, he rubbed too many feathers the wrong way. Eventually, a new Secretary took over DHS and personally asked me to take the position. Paul was quite displeased over being - shall we say - cashiered out, but he's no longer a threat to you, or to anyone else."

Max gave a pleased sigh. Maybe it wasn't as viscerally satisfying as personally smashing her way into Martinet's office and emptying a couple of slugs into him, but the fact that he wouldn't hurt another innocent child, take them away from their parents, or kill them outright? It would have to do.

"Cammie, I don't have much time left. The whole reason I'm even able to talk to you is due to a - er - like I said, it's complicated, but long story short? I got one day. One day to take over and see the world. See the way I put it back together. Limited time offer. I've only got a few minutes left. Then I'm gone."

Camilla paused, then asked, uncertain, "Gone?"

"Yeah, poof. The last survivor of the old timeline, fading away. The last dying ember of some massive fire that consumed another time and place. And when I do go, the Max of this timeline gets her life back. All she'll have to show for today is a big fuzzy gap in her memory."

Her voice filling with tension, Camilla asked, "Is there anything I can do to help you? If you tell me exactly what's going on, I might be able to…"

She interrupted her old mentor, "It's okay, Cammie. It's fine. It needs to be this way. I can see it now. Just answer a few more questions for me, okay? While I'm still here to ask."

"O-of course. Anything. Anything...ah. Within reason."

"Hah. Anyhow. New York City. Can't help but notice it's not a hole in the ground. You took care of it?"

"Yes. Yes, we most certainly did. I have to admit, I didn't know what to think, what to believe, when I first got your letter. The day you were supposed to have Emerged, we detected the sudden materialization of an extremely complex and highly structured quantum resonance, which spread out from coast to coast. We couldn't figure out where it came from or why...except that it kept growing stronger as the days went on. After a month I was able to calculate that it was going to build to a certain maximum level sometime in September or October of 2013. I theorized that something happened in the future, the aftermath of which spread out in waves towards the past. Like dropping a pebble into a lake. Once I received your letter, I finally understood what actually occured. Suffice it to say, you are, not to put too fine a point on it, a big damn bloody hero. Without your intelligence, I'm sure we wouldn't have known what to expect. Where precisely to go, what exact resources to bring. Shimiko and I had to develop an entirely new technology in order to keep that young boy's mind in stasis, after you described how his body adapted so quickly to anesthetics. We'd never know to even try that sort of thing without your warnings."

She'd done it. She'd saved New York for certain. The right way. She hoped that the rest of the world would follow suit.

"And this quantum resonance…?" she asked.

"Yes! We took to calling it The Mandala…" Cammie started.

"Is it gone?" Max interrupted. "I mean, is the world safe? You know why I'm asking. You know why it's so important…"

"...yes Max." She could hear the rising note in Camilla's voice as she answered the question. "Everything is perfectly fine. The Mandala disappeared into complete and utter nothingness almost immediately after we subdued the boy. Oh, and to answer one of your other questions in the letter, his name is Chenglei Wong. We've brought him to an extremely isolated oceanic outpost for the time being. Once he's past the flare window, we'll carefully rouse him, and see how he's faring. But there's no sign of any long term temporal-spatial disruptions. No 'cracks' in the bedrock of the universe. Whatever fate consumed your timeline won't be visited on this one. Not that I like to guarantee anything with complete and unquestionable accuracy, and I'll be maintaining constant vigilance for years to come, but I _am_ frightfully smart and clever, and I would bet real, hard currency on everything continuing to be fine"

Max bathed in relief, practically tasting personal redemption. She'd managed to cancel out the greatest mistake she'd ever made in her life. Her first - and last - mission was now well and truly a complete success.

 _And...and he has a name. I finally found it out! Oh God. Thank you. Thank you for not letting me die some sort of murderer!_

"Just...just promise me...I need to hear the words. You're gonna do right by him, okay? Won't try to turn him into a weapon, or keep him away from his parents, or...or cage him up, make him feel like a freak." Her voice was almost a cracking, emotional whisper now, as she spoke.

"Of course, Max." Camilla reassured her. "The first thing I did when I took over as Director was to re-establish the Register. Cost me some political capital, but damnit, I bloodly well earned it. I've gladly crushed the nightmare that Martinet was creating under my boot heel. As long as no Special is an obvious and immediate threat to national security, we're not going to force anything on them. They'll have to be Registered, and we'll keep an eye on them, but that's all. Of course, we're more than happy if they decide they want to join. Sometimes, we even call on them for help and consultation."

Max smiled slyly to herself, "You mean like Rachel and Victoria, last week in New York?"

"Yes, exac-. Wait a moment. How could you possibly have known that?" Camilla asked.

"Alternate timelines, remember?" Max said, half-laughing..

"...of course."

The first fingers of light crept over the horizon. Already, Max could feel the stirrings of a presence that was distinct and different from her own. New Max was waking up, no doubt ready to take her life back for good.

"I only have a couple minutes left. Wish we had more time, you know? So much to ask. And tell each other. No time for that now….heh. No more time at all. Except to say: thank you. It was a massively shitty situation, when you guys took me away from home and kept me prisoner, and I should hate you all. But _you_ kept me sane, watched out for me. You were the closest thing I had to a mother, after Joyce, and my own Mom. You ah...you almost made it good, you know? You gave me an amazing education, taught me how to push myself to the limit. There were some decent parts in it, too. In that whole shitpile. So thank you, Cammie. Thank you...and Alanna, and Meredith, and...and Chen and Villanova. And I even fucking forgive Nicole." She was weakly laughing and crying at the same time now.

"Max? I just want to say, I am so sorry. I know it wasn't us, I know we'll never truly appreciate what you went through, or what happened, but at the same time, it was _still_ us! Different versions under different circumstances, but we can't just ignore what that says about us as people. I, for one, will never forgive myself for how I ultimately allowed that terrible man to abuse you in your timeline. If there was anything more I could do to make things right, I would. And...I just want to say, before it's all over, something I never thought I'd get the chance to: You're a hero, Max. You are, quite literally, the greatest hero that history will never remember." Cammie started to lose her cool facade of emotional control, voice growing more fraught with sadness and pride.

"Thank you. Thank you for saving us." Camilla swallowed hard now. "The whole damn bloody world. I just wish I could have gotten a chance to actually know you. As more than just words on paper."

"S'okay...this is good. It's...goodbye, Camilla."

There was a brief pause, before the other woman's voice broke into a gentle sob at last. "Goodbye, poppet."

The line clicked dead.

With the last of her ebbing strength, Max performed a hard factory reset on the phone; it wouldn't do for her other self to be in possession of a direct line to one of the most secret agencies in the entire world.

She took another breath, staring out as the sun peeked over the horizon, and uttered her final words.

"Hey world. Look at me. I was here."

At long last, she was ready to let go.

Well, mostly.

Even after everything today, there was still a part of her, a tiny one, that wanted more. And why not? It was perfectly natural for someone, especially someone young, to _want_ to live. Especially in the future hope of a brighter tomorrow ahead. Of course there were regrets, but then again? Too few to mention.

She was okay with this, with an end that would claim her any moment now. The sun was already shining in her eyes: bright, golden, and luminous. It filled the entirety of her vision.

Maybe she'd lived too brief a time on this planet, and suffered horribly for a good third of her life. But she saved so many people, touched so many lives. Billions on Earth, millions in New York City. Given faith to Kate, when she'd lost her own. Brought peace and a sense of closure to her best friend; the one woman she desperately wanted to love and be loved by. And for the light that now shone in Chloe's eyes, she'd die a thousand times over again.

On top of everything else, she'd been given a single day, remarkable and fantastic, in order to see with her own eyes that her end had meaning and purpose. And before that, she'd had a week; the best farewell present she could have hoped for. To finally taste freedom again. To comfort and be comforted. To laugh, and dance. Cry and mourn. To well and truly live life, warts and all, for however brief a time as the fates saw fit to give her. To take back even a measure of what had been cruelly stolen away from her.

So yes, she was okay with this. With all of this. Because she was going out a hero; the hero she always wanted to be.

 _I got to be SuperMax. I got to save the world!_

What else did she really want?

What more could she possibly need?

 **THE END**

* * *

 ** _A/N: ...  
_**

Whew. Well. That's Black Swan, kids. Thanks for coming along for the ride.

It's always weird, doing the very end of a long series. Especially an _opus_ such as this. Hard to believe it's been nearly a whole year since this started. A lot has happened with this story, and in my life in general. While not my longest work, I would say this one was the most...challenging. Technically, I was trying to do a lot of complex, involved things, and I would say that they worked out to only various degrees of success. Indeed, in my darker hours, I would gripe that Black Swan would probably be remembered as my greatest and most successful failure. The first third is always going to be a bit contentious, and if I ever republished this on A3O or the like, I'd probably try to figure out how to make chapter 13 happen as soon as possible, and tell the rest in flashbacks. I don't really know how to pull that off, but I don't think I can republish without at least taking a long hard look at what to do different. Thanks to everyone who persevered through chapters 6-12. I asked a lot of you!

And then there is the fact that I started out wanting to tell primarily an emotional piece and a love story, but made the mistake of creating too interesting and compelling an AU universe, which didn't get explored enough. I really regret that. And then there's the ending, which was like wrestling an armored and chaingun-equipped Kodiak bear to pin down, and was complex as hell to execute. I knew some people were going to like it, and some people were going to hate it, but it was something I've wanted to do artistically for a while, and this felt the most satisfying to me. For the handful of readers who were also here for my Mass Effect fic Once More Unto The Breach, you guys probably didn't know that **Corentin IV** and I nearly talked ourselves into making Shepard's ending similarly bittersweet. It was going to be revealed that the neurological damaged she did to herself couldn't be fully healed by the Y'gis-nataal, and Shepard's thread would end with her slowly losing her mind and sense of identity, until Liara finally says goodbye to her in a medical facility for the last time, with Holly not able to even recognize her.

But I quickly realized that wasn't going to fly, especially given the sadness that was going to mar Liara's life in the millennium to come. But I could go more...shall we say...Darkonian with a LiS piece, because Donnie Darko is one of two films that Life is Strange borrows heavily from (The Butterfly Effect being the other). Sorry though...at the same time, I was not quite so initially sympathetic to the people who were heavily invested in the story and the characters and who were upset by what appears to be SwanMax's death. For that you do have my apology; I should have been my sympathetic, even though I would still go down this path again.

God knows, I have in equal parts hated and loved this story over the months. Sadly, I even ended up losing a friend due to this story, a while back. Don't want to go into details, but it was something I very much regret happening. But there were times I'd sworn I would never write again after this was done, and yet...ideas never stop coming to me, no matter how much I want to deny them. Like any good film, there is tons and tons of "footage" on the cutting room floor that didn't make it into the final cut. I, of course, know exactly what was in Max's letter to Camilla. I know what she told her, what secret knowledge she used to convince her that she knew her for real. I know what Camilla was doing and why it took her so long to answer the phone. I know what Rachel did when she visited Victoria, and I remember the conversation Alanna and Reese have after she makes a contact scan on Max. I have literally written a chapter or two that were completely tossed out and unused. I have plotted out and almost written a scene where Shimiko, Rachel, Victoria and Camilla all take care of New York.

And thank God I was finally able to give that poor Chinese kid a name at last! :)

Anyhow, I don't want to ramble, because there is stil a lot to get through. I said this before when I finished OMUTB, but...I didn't get to the end alone. A lot of people helped.

First and foremost, thank you to **Corentin IV** and **NuQueerWarhead** , my Sisters from Other Misters. I have sung Cory's praises for the better part of three years, and she has taught me so much, not just about writing, either. I was really jazzed she was still willing and ready to help me out on Black Swan, after I kinda-sorta tricked her into helping me with OMUTB ;-D. Her life has gotten so crazy, and while we still talk, I do greatly miss our work together, but more important that that, I miss her incredibly excellent Sinchi writing, which I hope that she will be able to return to someday soon. Thank you, Cory. Now and always *hugs*

And OMFG, NQW, who...btw...happy birthday again, Sis. :-) She and I met almost exactly a year ago when she gave me the most incredible advice for a story of mine. Very quickly, I got her opinion on a "superhero LiS" piece I was kicking around in my head, and she heavily influenced those initial plot seeds. She gave me all sorts of ideas that cast a heavy shadow across the entire series. For instance, she's the reason for the whole running gag about codenames. And then she gave and gave some more, picking up the editing cat-o-nine-tails when Cory needed to sadly step back. Nuqy is one of the most fascinating people I've had the pleasure and privilege to know in my life; she is laser smart and razor sharp. I would say that a lot of the inspiration for "The Last Day' arc came from her excellent "Precious Gifts" stories, which you should check out now. And like Cory, she is very good at making me stop and reconsider story ideas and design choices, pushing me to get to the next level.

Okay, if I don't stop now, I will fill up another 10K with lionization of them both. So let me get to the rest of the thank yous! I always hate naming people because I live in utter fear of accidentally forgetting someone, and slighting them unintentionally

But my deepest thank yous to:

 **Theodur, metaladdict and Alpenwolf** : Who have been there from the start, with both my epic babies. You should check their stuff out, too!

 **Candle In The Night:** Who has been an absolute delight to converse with, a good cheerleader, an excellent sounding board. Thank you for everything.

 **Reilovernat1213** : I haven't seen you in a while, but never forget that you are the reason why Alanna Rodriguez turned into a notable secondary character, and not merely a one-shot throwaway mention for chapter 6.

 **Darquan0** : Binge reader extraordinare. Your passionate feeling for Max will not be forgotten :)

 **jim89:** Holy crap, dude! You and thos reviews of yours! :-D

 **Grumpycat42, TM Calypso, Guardian of Azarath:** You guys came in..I can't quite remember when, but you've been around. Your reviews have been ever appreciated, your loyalty touching. Thank you so much.

 **Lonesomebard:** My fellow Gen X-er, and an accomplished writer on his own. The extra bit where Max reassures herself about how she handled Stella Hill was inspired by what he said. He probably inspired a few other things too. :)

 **rowanred81:** Caesarina of the LiS set, at least in my estimation. We don't get to talk as much as we used to, but I've always been happy to call her my friend.

 **painkiller08:** Someone else I haven't seen a lot and miss as much. Thanks for organizing that online Christmas Party! :)

 **White Story:** You didn't like everything I did, but you always were wiling to chat. I know Grande Dame was more your cup of tea, but thank you for sticking with Black Swan :)

And...and everyone else! I'm so sorry if I can't remember all the names, and all of the exchanges we might have had together over the years, so please don't allow my shitty memory to diminish your importance!. All you quiet readers lurking in the background, all you binge readers tearing through this work in a couple days. Everyone who took the time to say something, or several somethings. Everyone who somehow knew when to write me, when my confidence was low, and I was ready to give in. Everyone who came and supported me from Twiter, and especially from Tumblr! (You Tumblr folks rock!)

To everyone who I should have listed by name: maybe we talked a lot, but it was only for a day, or a week, or a month or two, and we've drifted apart since and now I stupidly can't immediately remember your name...but I could not have gotten here without any of you!

Welp, some folks will want to know where I go from here. I have two weeks vacation and then a rolling six week project at work I need to get through. I have Riotgrrls in Love to kinda...well I have to do SOMETHING about it. Then I have a one shot sequel to Grande Dame I'm kicking around, a possible Chasemarsh BDSM piece..you know. I was convinced that my writing days were more or less over after Once More Unto The Breach was done, not realizing that my best days were yet to come. And sure, there are days where I scream to the heavens I want to not write anymore, and will quit, but I think I know, in my heart of hearts, that I will always be around here...for a while, at any rate.

(Though I'm pretty damn sure it will be a very long time before I try an epic length series again! :)

There is one last parting thing I will say: Some readers may note that I appear to have left myself a measure of wiggle room at the very end of this chapter; we never actually see what happens seconds later.

This is intentional.

In a year or two, you may find out why :-).

Stay frosty, kids.


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